


and he smiled (with a mouthful of bloody teeth)

by justprompts



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, BAMF Alice Longbottom, BAMF Lily Evans Potter, BAMF Narcissa Black Malfoy, BAMF Regulus Black, BAMF Sirius Black, Everybody Lives, Everyone Thinks Dumbledore's Boring, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Oblivious Regulus Black, Peter Pettigrew Dies, Sirius Black & James Potter Friendship, Sirius Black & Lily Evans Potter Friendship, Sirius Black Gets Expelled, Sirius Black in Durmstrang, Sirius Black-centric, Snape Chills And Does Nothing, Spy Regulus Black, Switching between Non-Linear & Linear Narration, just canon blacks coz their family is NOT actually good and misunderstood, the fic where sirius doesn't have to reconcile with his whole family to be bamf
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:20:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29236707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justprompts/pseuds/justprompts
Summary: On the fourth day of Sirius's absence, Dumbledore makes it clear. He announces, grave and grim and stern - the expulsion of sixth year Gryffindor student, Sirius Black - and Regulus watches the three marauders avoid everyone's eyes. Mcgonagall stares with an unreadable expression at Dumbledore.Sirius doesn't come back home.Regulus supposes that it was never home for him, was it?But surely, surely now - even Sirius, proud and unbending as he was, even he would come back?Where else would he go?The one in which Severus Snape does get a little hurt that night in the Willow - the one where Sirius Black gets expelled, but doesn't just give up.James Potter is late by the fraction of a minute. It changes more than you would think.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald, Alice Longbottom/Frank Longbottom, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Regulus Black/Bartemius Crouch Jr., Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 85
Kudos: 187





	1. there is a bitter triumph in crashing

**Author's Note:**

> Self Indulgent AU where Sirius gets expelled from Hogwarts and thus, goes to Durmstrang.
> 
> Okay, okay - ALL OF YOU, HOLD UP. 
> 
> Before you go ahead and read, do me a favour, and read this first (there's absolutely no connection AT ALL, like absolutely N O N E, but I wrote this with love so I just wanted more readers, thanks) : _[every night before i sleep (i like to think you think of me)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28766853)_

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > _you're such a fugitive  
>  but you don't know what  
> you're running from_

Sirius doesn't come back home. 

_Regulus supposes that it was never home for him, was it?_

But surely, surely now - even Sirius, proud and unbending as he was, surely after this, even he would come back? _Where else would he go?_

_( - "I didn't mean to - " Sirius yelled, wiping angry tears from his eyes. Regulus is standing in the shadows, like always - somewhere where nobody can see him, till its too late, like always. The hallway is deserted, except the three of them._

_"You never do, do you?" Potter replied, cold, mocking, indifferent. "You never mean anything you do. You never think about anything you do. You just - "_

_"He isn't dead, James," Sirius said, loudly. "Will you stop acting like - "_

_"Like what?" Potter asked, with a cruel, bitter laugh. "There was so much blood, Sirius, when I reached. Two more minutes, and he would have been bitten - "_

_"I - I didn't - " Sirius clenched his jaw._

_"I thought I knew you," Potter whispered, and Regulus could almost feel Sirius break. "I thought you were my - brother."_

_"I am, James, I didn't - " Sirius's shoulders were tensed, his fists white. Regulus felt something sinking._

_"I don't know who you are anymore," Potter said, before leaving Sirius behind in the hall. "And I don't think you do, either. When you figure it out, come find me." - )_

Regulus watches James Potter running out of the Hospital Wing, his face a reflection of his brother's tear-stained one after the two fought - there's absolute silence in the Great Hall - and five conspicuously absent students. 

Maybe, Potter isn't as unfailing as he's thought to be. Maybe, sometimes, sometimes - _his luck runs out too._

Regulus watches Peter Pettigrew - and he's _shouting._ Pettigrew is - shouting - at _Mcgonagall_ , who's not allowing James or him entry to Dumbledore's Office. 

Maybe, Pettigrew isn't as spineless as he's always thought to be. Maybe, just maybe, Peter Pettigrew is a _dangerous man to cross._

Regulus watches Remus Lupin come out of the Hospital Wing three days later. He's quiet, quieter than before, there's no glint of mischief in his eyes - there's no pale, dark-haired boy by his side. There is however, a new scar that runs right across his face, broad and deep. 

Maybe, Lupin isn't just his brother's shadow. But without his brother, he's _hardly more than a shadow._ Maybe, just maybe, they were more than what they seemed to be.

On the fourth day, Dumbledore makes it clear. He announces, grave and grim and stern - the expulsion of sixth year Gryffindor student, Sirius Black - and Regulus watches the three marauders avoid everyone's eyes. Mcgonagall stares with an unreadable expression at Dumbledore.

Regulus watches Severus Snape come back from St. Mungo's six days later. He's lost no limbs, his broken ribs have been fixed. His head injury was severe - but he's back, and he's not the same. He's still human, Regulus realises, on the next full moon. 

Maybe, Snape felt remorse. Maybe, just maybe, he felt that though he wasn't the one hurt most from all of this - he realised that it was _his fault, too._ Its a start. 

"You could have died," Regulus said, evenly. 

"I know," Snape replied, blank-faced. 

"Would you have blamed my brother, if you did?" Regulus asked. It wasn’t a fair question. 

"Would he have blamed himself?" Snape asked, idly. That _is_ a fair question. 

"Yes," Regulus said. Firm. _Of course,_ he wants to add. He doesn't, though. He doesn't even know his brother anymore. _Who is he to say anything about him?_

"Then that blame would be enough," Snape replied, and Regulus realises that Snape isn't the same vengeful, petty boy that he used to be, anymore. He's learning. He's growing.

Regulus watches and watches - as the school grows quieter, dimmer - there isn't anyone laughing anymore - Regulus watches James Potter scream at a Slytherin in his year for daring to say that Sirius got what he deserved, even though in his anger - James had told Sirius almost the same. Regulus watches James Potter coming and going from the Owlery everyday, letters in his hand. 

_Regulus knows that none of them reach._

Regulus sends letters home himself, but no response comes. _He spoke the wrong Floo Address,_ his mother says, not sounding very angry. _He didn't come back home. Sirius never reached Grimmauld Place. And he is not your brother, Regulus._

Sirius is - not his brother. 

_But he is, Mother,_ don't you see - he is, he is, _he always will be_ \- like Regulus holds a place in Sirius's heart, Sirius owns a place in Regulus's too. His mother calls it _tainted._ Sirius's presence tainted the house - his existence was a blemish to their name - 

Regulus calls him a memory. 

Because, for all he knows now - _for all he dares to hope_ \- Sirius _is_ just a memory. A ghost, a shadow-boy slipping through Regulus's heart, the angles of his smirk still visible everytime Regulus blinks. Canine. The glint of a charmed silver knife in the dead of the night, the shards of a broken mirror embedded into pale hands, a whispered, _We're brothers, Reg, of course -_

And no goodbye. Sirius once told Regulus that till the time Regulus can look up to the night sky, and see Sirius - he'll be there. Regulus thinks that Sirius meant that he would always be there. _Regulus traces the star with his eyes every night, just to be safe._

Sirius doesn't go back home. 

Sirius doesn't go back to Potter's place, Sirius doesn't go back to Grimmauld Place, Sirius doesn't go to Andromeda, Sirius doesn't go to Uncle Alphard - Sirius simply _disappears._

Its the summer after a year more that Potter stops asking Regulus about Sirius. Its the summer when Regulus no longer remains his own person - _he's got ink on his skin now._ Dark, dark, cursed ink - that says he belongs to the - 

Regulus graduates.

_____

Sirius doesn't return. He doesn't send a single letter. Doesn't reply to a single one. Kreacher can't find him. Regulus hears no whispers, no news - _not even a body, because how would he even know if Sirius was still alive? -_ Regulus sees the news of Lily Evans and James Potter's engagement in the Prophet, and he truly wonders - as he looks at Lupin, standing next to the newly wedded couple as Potter's Best Man, that _don't they see this is all wrong?_

He flips the page. He idly reads the news of some magi-zoologistic discovery, he flips through the news of a missing Ministry witch, scans the large article on the second page about the new winner of Germany's Duelling Championship, he's quite young too, a Durmstrang student, sees the list of the muggle villages that have been attacked in the last week or so, reads about Narcissa and Lucius's one year marriage Anniversary - 

He thinks, everyday, he thinks - if Sirius came back, after his disappearance two years ago, what would Regulus say to him? 

Curse him, probably. They're rather good at that. 

_But, no. Sirius Black is just a memory._ And just because he didn't say goodbye, doesn't mean he would ever see him again - the slightly more handsome face of his - 

Regulus would never see that smirk again. 

Sirius doesn't come back home.

______

The Dark Lord asks Regulus for a House-Elf. He obliges, graciously - his insides tightening for no actual reason - 

Kreacher comes back, but only just. 

Anger flares in him like never before, _is this what Sirius feels when he's angry?_ Like Regulus could burn down the whole - 

No. He's a Slytherin. _He searches, and studies and studies and searches -_

Regulus doesn't say goodbye to anyone, either. 

He looks at the locket in his hand, opens it and slips the small parchment inside. 

He knows what to do.

( - _To the Dark Lord,_ he writes. 

_To Sirius,_ he thinks. - )

( - _I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret,_ he writes. 

_I want you to know that I died for something that you can take pride in,_ he thinks. - )

( - _I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more,_ he writes. 

_I face death in the hope that when you remember me, you will remember me with love,_ he thinks. - )

( - _R.A.B,_ he writes. 

_Always yours, Reg_ , he thinks. - )

_____

Lily knows something is wrong the moment Dumbledore calls them. Dumbledore _never_ calls on them. James has never forgiven Dumbledore for Sirius, never forgotten what Dumbledore took from him. 

But, he's called them now. 

_Why?_ What's happened that you need to - 

There's only one possible reason. 

_Sirius._

_( - "There are so many times when I wonder if he - if it was because of me that he left," James tells her, his Head Boy badge gleaming on his chest as they both sit on James's bed, looking at the empty space next to it. There should be another bed there. "If I hadn't been so - I was just angry, I didn't mean all of what I said - "_

_Lily traces the lines on his palm, something that always comforts him. He smiles brokenly at her._

_"I - I told him that - that he wasn't my brother!" James says, wiping furious tears from his eyes. "But - but - I didn't - I didn't think he would - if I could just take that back, I would, Lily, I really would. He is my brother."_

_Is. Not was. He believes in Sirius. Its been almost a year, and Lily's seen the piles and piles of letters James has sent. None are ever received._

_"He always will be. Always." - )_

She doesn't want to think about it, doesn't want to think about what would happen if James is told that Sirius is -

_( - "He isn't here," Lily says, finally, one hand holding the white veil of her wedding gown up, and James looks wryly at her._

_"Bastard owes me hell of a lot more now," James says, shrugging, though the disappointment is clear in his eyes. "We got the event printed in the fucking Prophet for this." - )_

No. No, no, no, James doesn't believe it yet, and its not that he's in denial - no, James _knows_ it. He knows that Sirius is okay - knows that Sirius is alive. He fully believes, in his heart, that Sirius is alive and well -

_( - "Thought you would have more faith in him, you tossers," James says, to Remus and Peter, who look uncomfortable - sympathetic. James doesn't need the sympathy. He believes in Sirius. Always has. "He's a fucking marauder. It takes more than an expulsion to kill him."_

_Peter squirms in his seat, "James - its been more than four years - "_

_"Four years, three months and thirteen days," James whispers, shocking even Lily. "You think I don't know? I would know if he was - if he - "_

_"Peter, let it go," Remus says, looking unconvinced, but unable to hold back his hope. - )_

James doesn't look scared. Lily feels apprehensive, though. What if Dumbledore's found Sirius? - What if he isn't - 

James squeezes her hand, like she's the one who needs comforting. 

_( - "And that's your mum," James says, softly, rocking Harry in his lap and pointing at a picture. "Lily Evans Potter. Someday, bud, you'll meet your godfather, too. His name is - "_

_"Sirius Black," Lily finishes, coming up behind him, as James stares at her, shocked. They hadn't ever discussed the subject of godparents. James had never asked, and Lily didn't need to. "We'll see him someday. Soon."_

_James looks happier than Lily's ever seen him before, his eyes shining. - )_

"Lily, James," Dumbledore starts, unusually grave. "I'm glad you were able to come in such short notice. I hope you're both doing well? - Ah, as well as one can be, in these troubled times - " 

And he tells them why he's called the two of them. 

Its not about Sirius, after all. Its about Harry. 

And a prophecy. Stupid, _stupid_ \- five lines worth of bullshit - a prophecy - 

A prophecy, made by Sybil Trelawney, a prophecy, overheard by Mulciber, who must have already reported it to Voldemort.

If Lily was scared for her little family before, she's _terrified_ now.

____

When Regulus reaches the cave, _there's already someone there._

____

When Alex Verlac is in his sixth year, he meets him for the first time. 

"Sebastian," he says shortly, by way of introduction, moving his small suitcase into the dormitory, his hair dark and short, almost a head above Alex's own. "Pleasure." 

"Is it?" Felix Durmont says from the other end of the room, in a jeering voice. "You don't look very pleased." 

"And you would know that, would you?" Sebastian asks quietly, evenly, his British accent even stronger than Alex's own, and Alex can hear the amusement in his voice. Like he's above it all. He doesn't seem like the other newbies, especially the transfers - scared of every other nook and corner and student and Professor in Durmstrang - just because its infamous for its Dark Arts. Felix doesn't reply, but Alex can feel him backing out already. 

And a good thing, too. 

Sebastian turns out to be something of a prodigy. The first week, he spends every waking hour in the library - listens to the teachers with undivided attention, gets all his spells right on his first tries, all of them powerful, potent, perfect. 

The Headmaster had formally announced his presence a day back, exchanging a look with Sebastian, that Alex could only describe as _intrigued. Curious. Hopeful, greedy. Like artists look at their masterpieces._ The next week, they're all made to come to the Headmaster's office in two's and take oaths. All the students, every year, regarding the privacy of Sebastian. Its a complicated vow - and it stops them from telling any outside party, directly or indirectly, about the existence of the boy. Its extraordinarily strange, and Alex is almost itching to ask, but he knows merely asking wouldn't help. Students whisper amongst themselves, all theories improbable, and overly exaggerated. 

"You're such a swot, Sebastian," Felix says - because nobody ever uses his last name, he doesn't have one, apparently - looking at him pour over a book. 

Sebastian finds that so funny, he almost laughs, something of a rarity for him. "I wish I could record you saying that," he says, snorting. "I know someone who'll love it." 

"Do you ever do anything besides studying?" Felix asks, with a frown. "Anything at all?" 

"Is there anything to do here?" Sebastian asks, in a mocking imitation of Felix. "Anything at _all?"_

They play quidditch in the evening, and chess the next morning and Sebastian is the best at them, too. 

"Have you always been this great at chess?" Alex asks him, his quill hovering over the Daily Crossword in the paper as Sebastian wipes the floor with Nashvin, a quiet boy in the year above theirs. 

"I don't know," Sebastian replies, looking a little lost. "I just - never tried before. Need help with that?" he adds, perking up. "I love crosswords." 

Surprise, _surprise_ \- he's great at that, too.

_____

"Who the hell are you?" Regulus breathes out, gripping the fake locket tight in his hand, wand pointed right in front of him. "How did you find this - " 

"I - you - " the man seems to be at a loss. He's wearing a hood of some sort, a hand on the chain that ties the boat to cross the green lake and Regulus can only see the outline of his face. "Did you - _Regulus?!"_

That tone. That voice. The height, exactly what Regulus has always estimated it would be - that _accent -_

Regulus sucks in air, no - no - god, not now - he won't believe it, it has to be a trap, right? How much of a coincidence is this - that Regulus defies the Dark Lord and he's here now and he's seeing - 

"The Blood-traitor is alive," Kreacher mutters, vengefully, and Regulus's wand drops a little. "Master Sirius always was a difficult brat to get rid of, Kreacher knows - " 

"Shut up, Kreacher," the man-who-can't-be-his-brother says, and Kreacher shuts up instantly, like _it was an order._ "I just - what are you doing here?!" 

"I could ask you the same," Regulus says, quietly, the man has still not raised his wand. "If you are who you claim to be." 

"Er - I haven't actually claimed to be anyone," the man says, awkwardly - and Regulus almost screams in frustration. 

He drops his wand a little more. "Implied, then." 

The man ignores that, glancing once at the centre of the lake, where the crystal basin is, and then glances back, and says, in a sneering voice, "Heard you've become one of _Him."_ Regulus already knows where this is going. _"Is Mother proud?"_

"You think I'm here as a Death-Eater?" Regulus asks, resisting the urge to tell him that he has _no right_ to talk about their mother. "You've always been an idiot, but surely, a few years _on the run_ would have helped?" 

Sirius shows no sign of discomfort, but Regulus sees the slight flinch, a tiny clenching of jaw at the words _'on the run.'_

Sirius doesn't reply. Just looks at him. 

"You're taller than me, now, you absolute fucker," he says, standing upright and walking a few steps towards Regulus, till they're just two feet away. Regulus can see his face now. 

Same grey eyes - same long eyelashes that cast shadows across the same sharp cheekbones - 

There's a new, tiny scar across his eyebrow. 

He's right, though. Regulus is taller. It makes him want to smile a little. Taller, thinner, longer hair. Sirius looks strange without his hair in a bun. Because that's how Regulus had imagined him all this time. 

Sirius smiles a small half-smile, his mouth pulling up at one corner - _and Regulus wants to cry._ He had come prepared to die. He hadn't come prepared for this. He doesn't know what's harder. 

He takes a shallow, calming breath - before taking the locket, grabbing Sirius's hand and putting the locket in it. "Open it," he says, because if he's going to die today, he's going to say goodbye first. _Sirius is going to know why. Because Regulus never did, when Sirius disappeared._

Sirius does. He illuminates the paper with a wandless _Lumos_ , that's slightly impressive, Regulus thinks grudgingly - and reads it through quickly, eyes running from one line to the next. 

He looks up from the paper once he's done, swallowing, his expression pained. 

No. No, he doesn't _get to be hurt. Not him. Not now._

"I thought you were dead," Regulus whispers, brokenly, his voice catching embarrassingly. "I thought - you didn't even - _not a single letter - "_

And then, Sirius is hugging him, saying something over and over again, and Regulus is holding him like he's going to disappear again - _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry - I didn't know you wanted me to - I'm sorry, I missed you and - sorry -_ and then, they're both crying - Sirius's skin is wet, where Regulus's touches it -

______

Alex Verlac is going to be in _so much_ trouble, he thinks, as he and Felix sneak back to their dormitory, Felix giggling and swaying - Alex trying to be sturdy on his feet. 

They attract the attention of the groundskeeper almost immediately - and then they're running to their dormitory, Mr. Stakov right at their heels. Their robes are drawn up, so their faces can't be seen - but if he catches them before they reach - 

Durmstrang punishments are harsh. 

They run into the dormitory, wheezing and panting - and the first thing Alex sees is Sebastian on his desk, writing something that looks like a letter. He jumps up as they enter, startling and hiding the paper - before he sees their condition, breathless and half-drunk. 

Sebastian starts to grin, an easy, mischievous, _practiced_ in a I-always-smile-like-this type of grin - one that Alex has never seen on his face - until he freezes like he's remembered something and says, grimacing, "What's he drunk?" 

"Stronger than firewhii- _iiskey,"_ Felix says, in a sing-song voice, repeating the bartender's words. "What're you writing, Seb?" 

Sebastian raises an amused eyebrow at the nickname but doesn't reply, stuffing the paper back. 

"Open up, boys!" a voice outside yells. _"NOW!"_

"Fuck," Alex mutters, as Felix laughs carelessly. "Fuck - fucking - " 

"I know you're all awake," Stakov continues, gleefully. _"OPEN UP, BOYS!!"_

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Sebastian mutters, and gets up from his desk - moving so fast, Alex barely realises it. 

He takes out a vial from under his chest of drawers, tipping Felix's head back and pouring it into his mouth. He flicks his wand with his left hand, changing Felix's clothes to his nightwear, before doing the same to Alex - both sober now, he sort of pushes them towards their beds, throwing a random book from his desk at each of them. 

He swings the door open in a matter of seconds, with a wide, innocent smile. 

"Yes, Mr. Stakov?" Sebastian asks, charmingly polite. "We _are_ awake. But I'm afraid I'm new to the school and nobody mentioned that we couldn't study inside the dormitory after curfew?" 

Mr. Stakov looks at them, Felix staring dazedly at his book, but he usually looks like that, so there's nothing amiss - Alex cross-legged on his bed, with a book and a confused smile. "Good evening, Mr. Stakov," he says, when the man glares at him. 

Stakov's eyes are narrowed suspiciously as he peers inside the dormitory. There's nothing even mildly out of place. 

"I'll take your word this time," he says, huffing begrudgingly and walks out, as Sebastian wishes him a cheerful, "Sweet dreams, sir!" 

Alex and Felix, now looking far better than he had five minutes ago - stare at Sebastian. It takes him a second to realise they're looking at him. 

"How'd you - why did you - " Felix begins, looking confused and stuttering a little. 

"Sleep it off," Sebastian says, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure you'll feel the need to be unpleasant once you're feeling better." 

"Thanks, Sebastian," Alex says, with a small smile. 

Sebastian doesn't reply, just walks to the attached bathroom with a scoffed, _"Amateurs."_

_____

Kaspar Vogler is exhausted. He'd always thought the war with Grindelwald would be his last. He'd always thought that it'd be the last time he would have to deal with battle - last time he would have to hear the desperation behind defensive walls of pride - and anger -

_Sirius Black,_ the boy says, defiantly, proudly. 

_He was expelled from Hogwarts yesterday,_ Kaspar remembers the headline well. _He should be missing, he thinks. Anyone with any knowledge on the whereabouts of Sirius Black to contact Alphard Black - on the address -_

"Why here?" he asks, curious. Impressed, in a way. A sixteen year old disgraced student running away from his country - without a trace, without a sign. The boy has promise, he can see that. His magic is unfurling around him, eager - fierce - thirsty to prove - 

"Where else?" the boy replies, sweeping a careless glance at the school ground stretching below them - an institution of learning, of magic that Hogwarts doesn't know - 

"Your relatives are searching for you," he says, carefully noting his reaction. There is none. "Albus Dumbledore might be - " 

"He let me go," Sirius says, quietly, blankly. "I owe nothing to Dumbledore. And I don't want to be found. I won't - I will _not_ return to Britain like this. Not yet. Not _uneducated."_

"You ask for a lot," he replies, stoic. "You ask for my discretion, you ask for a place in my school. I'll surmise that you have no funds - " 

The boy doesn't flush, doesn't respond. Just looks at him. 

" - and magic taught at Hogwarts is always a step below the magic taught in _Durmstrang,"_ he continues. "What would you give me in return?" 

"My loyalty, of course," the boy replies, without hesitation, spreading his palms outwards, and "Debts are fulfilled. Promises are kept. But my loyalty would be yours. Completely." 

"And I should take a Black on his word?" he asks, quirking a slight smile. Sirius smirks, and its sharp - _sly_ \- it reminds him of another tall, proud boy, reminds Kaspar of him - 

"Of course not," he says. "You think I'll take you on _your_ word?" 

Fair enough, he thinks. 

"Then only one thing remains, doesn't it?" he asks, rhetorically, leaning on his desk, fingers folded. "How valuable is your loyalty?" 

Sirius's smirk widens, and Kaspar's made up his mind already. Still, though - 

_"Impress me,"_ he says, softly. 

Sirius Black doesn't disappoint.

_____

_"I don't know who you are anymore. And I don't think you do, either. When you figure it out, come find me."_

The words echo in his ears, again and again and again - like Marlene's broken muggle record-player in the common room - as Sirius sits in front of Dumbledore, not wanting to look at him, not wanting to face how _lucky_ they were. Not wanting to face the fact that when we walks out of his office, when he walks down the corridor, it'll be his last time as a student. 

The flames in the fireplace turn green, as Walburga and Orion step out, not a hair out of place - eyes cold, unforgiving, dripping hatred - he nods slightly, an automatic response to his parents' presence, even though he's stopped calling them that a while ago. Dumbledore tells them everything - leaving out parts about any werewolves involved. It almost sounds like Sirius gave Snape a quest to travel to the fucking monsters of west high - 

Walburga argues back, because of course she does - _it was only a half-blood who got just slightly injured, you muggle-loving fool_ \- and Dumbledore doesn't give. Of course he doesn't. Sirius wonders when Dumbledore became like this towards him - distant, indifferent. Suspicious. Callous. 

Sirius can't go back to Grimmauld. He can't - he would go crazy, he would die there - he would _rather_ die than go there. 

Walburga’s fingernails pierce his skin. He resists the urge to wince painfully. 

Grimmauld Place is like a slow poison - its walls suffocating, imposing - surrounded by houses, but dreadfully lonely. Its dark and old and _so frightening,_ Sirius thinks, the idea of going there knowing that he doesn't have Hogwarts as his haven, _doesn't have James anymore - is terrifying._

He doesn't have anyone. 

Its a strangely detaching fact, something he'd come to terms with when he gave back the sorting hat to Mcgonagall and walked from the little stool to the table clad in red and gold. James was just - _god, he can't think about him right now._

He could go to Uncle Alphard's. He could even try Andromeda. They would take him in. _But then what?_ Sirius isn't going to be idle while the war - he isn't going to be a bystander, the one who sees people die - he isn't going to be a liability to the people around him - 

_But he barely knows magic._

He still needs schooling. That's probably a crucial fact - he refuses to learn what Walburga or Orion teach him - he needs a _school -_

That's when it strikes him.

_( - "Sirius has the aptitude for it, Walburga," Orion said, part excited, part impatient - his wand in his hand. "His magic is already so advanced. He could learn so much more under Vogler than he could under Dumbledore. Dumbledore's curriculum is so woefully incomplete - "_

_"He is not going to Durmstrang, Orion," Walburga replied, sharply. "He's a Black, he's going to go to Hogwarts, he's going to be a Slytherin, he's going to - "_

_"Hogwarts has only worsened since our day, my dear," Orion said, a note of plea in his voice. "Think about it. He's just four and he can levitate things on command, he can repair broken windows, he can conjure light! He's my Heir! He needs the best we can give him, which is - "_

_"Vogler is just as much of a fool as Dumbledore, Orion," Walburga said, calmly. "If Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald alone, Vogler did the rest for him. Or don't you remember the raids and battles during Grindelwald's reign? The hordes of wizards in his army, all - "_

_"Its a matter of the magical subjects taught, not the alliances of their respective Heads," Orion said, sighing - defeat clear in his voice already. "Why, Hogwarts can't even keep a Defense Teacher for more than a year! The level of teaching - "_

_"My Heir will be a Slytherin, like all the Blacks before him," Walburga interrupted, final. - )_

That's it, then. Walburga _didn't approve of his alliance. That's good enough for him._

His plan is dangerous. Its also the only one he has. 

When it's finally time to go, Sirius collects his trunk - writes down a note to Remus, then to James - then ultimately loses courage, crumples them both and puts them back in his pocket - 

"Somethings in life, are simply - meant to happen," Dumbledore says, heavily, as he hands Sirius his paperwork - and if Sirius hadn't known any better, he would have been touched by the regretful display. "Do not lose courage. You still have the potential to be someone great. I wish you a better life ahead, Mr. Black."

"Thank you," Sirius mumbles, out of necessity, and walks into the floo - without a name on his lips, concentrating as hard as he can on the name of the Headmaster and the school, the only thing he knows about the location - 

He falls out of the floo in a tiny room, making a tall, thin man with sandy, salt-and-pepper colored hair, jump out of the chair he had been relaxing in - their wands are up immediately, frozen towards each other - 

The temperature has seemingly dropped atleast ten degrees. Sirius feels a cold shiver. 

"Who - wha - _are you a student?"_ the man asks, in fluent German, and Sirius translates in his head instantly - Walburga was good for something, atleast. He has multiple languages stored in his head, impossible to forget - 

He glances outside the window, glances at the files spread around the room. Black and white student's faces, serious, gloomy, stare at him from the front pages. The man is in uniform. It looks like an office, like - like - Filch's. This must be the caretaker, here, then. 

He's at the right place, he just knows it. 

"Not exactly," Sirius replies, in English, to test the waters. The man understands, before taking in his school trunk, the papers in his hand, the student file that has most of his school performance reports - and looks at him, confusion clear on his face. "I need to meet with the Headmaster. As soon as possible." 

The man passes him a suspicious glance. "Its not possible to floo in through the school's fireplaces without permission - " 

_He's getting rather good at those. Impossibilities._

"I can wait," Sirius says, ignoring his question because he honestly doesn't know the answer. "I'm not wrong in assuming this is a part of Durmstrang?" 

The man passes him an incredulous glance like, _obviously, you idiot._

"Right, and you are...?" 

"Trenton Stakov, groundskeeper and quidditch instructor," the man introduces automatically, picking up a quill and paper, writing down something and whistling. A large white owl flies inside immediately, and grabs the note from his hands. "Your name - ?" 

"I'm afraid I can't say," Sirius says, clipped. "I'll give my wand if you don't feel comfortable with that." 

Sirius gives his wand up, his left ankle tapping anxiously against the silver knife hidden in the sock he's wearing on his right leg, his eyes scanning any possible ways out, if this goes south - 

The man stares at Sirius without speaking. Sirius stares back, and tries to not fidget. 

No reply comes, for quite some time. 

Sirius hopes all this hasn't been for nothing. _It probably has been,_ he thinks, swallowing the lump in his throat. _No. Not right now. You'll have enough time to sob about everything like the pathetic loser you are. Not fucking now._

Stakov gives him water, offers him some food - but he's so winded up right now, he doesn't think he could keep it down - 

"The Headmaster isn't here, Mr. Stakov," a heavily accented voice from the doorway says. Sirius jolts upright, trying to even his breathing. Its cold, even with the warming charms in the room. In the doorway, there's a boy standing, tall, muscular - in what Sirius assumes, must be a Durmstrang uniform. He's holding his wand in his right hand, a strong _Lumos_ in place. "He's sent a message through Professor Dimitri. Please show him to one of the Holiday Home guest rooms for the night. He'll not be able to meet the Headmaster before tomorrow evening. He's away on some important business." 

Sirius doesn't know whether to be relieved or more nervous. He'd been hoping to do all this, right now - when his adrenaline was pumping him up, nevertheless, he gestures for his wand, shrinks his trunk using it and hands it back. 

He doesn't sleep the night. 

_"When you figure it out, come find me."_

He will. He would do that, Sirius promises in the dark.

_____

He meets Headmaster Kaspar Vogler at 6 in the evening the next day. Stakov keeps his wand until then, which doesn't stop Sirius from turning into Padfoot and seeing the campus. Its _beautiful._

The Headmaster is more understanding than Sirius had ever expected. They make Unbreakable Vows, from both sides. Sirius comes to respect the man - for his ability to take things to stride, his way of prioritizing things, his lack of prejudice. He barely questions why Sirius was even expelled. He says that he can tell what remorse looks like. 

He places Sebastian, as Sirius is to be known for now, in a dormitory which has all those students who aren't German by Nationality, so he would have lesser language issues. Sirius hasn't made any changes to his appearance, so the truth will come out someday, of course - but Headmaster Vogler has guaranteed that he would take steps to ensure that his presence at Durmstrang wouldn't come out immediately. 

He settles in, and then _studies and studies and studies._

_Moony would be a proud,_ a voice in his head tells him. _Would he even care?_

He cries the first night, and the second one. 

_____

In one world, when Regulus Black steals from the Dark Lord, he's alone. He dies in pain, a forgotten hero - alone, _alone, alone as he screams._

In another world, when Regulus Black steals from the Dark Lord, he's not alone. His brother's with him - _he's different now, though, he isn't the same, immature kid Regulus remembers_ \- but they still laugh as the fiendfyre swirls around them, their magic binding and merging into one powerful force, one will. 

In one world, he leaves behind a last note, a last farewell to fate - and _he becomes a tragedy._

In another world, he leaves a locket behind, but there's nothing in it - _because he doesn't need to say goodbye. Not this time._

In one world, Sirius Black hears the news of his brother's death three days later, and he goes to the funeral he isn't invited to, disguised. 

In another world, there _is_ no funeral. There are excuses, and punishments, and secrets - and a _new spy in the Dark Lord's ranks._

In one world, Sirius Black mourns his brother, the little kid who grew up inside sharp talons, who had no choice, who was _too soft - too idiotic - who couldn't say no_ \- Sirius Black mourns for the brother he wished he had saved, the brother he wished he had tried harder with. 

In another world, Sirius Black feels _pride._ Feels so, so fucking proud, of the brother he believed in, because in the end, Regulus didn't let him down. And that's what mattered. Because, in this world, Sirius knew the truth.

In one world, a generation later, they would remember Regulus Black again, because he _died a hero._

In this world, a generation later, they would know and love Regulus - because he _lived._

_Regulus Black lived._

______

Sirius writes a hundred letters, to Remus and James and Peter and Marlene and one, even to Mcgonagall, and all of them start off the same - _guilt, guilt, guilt _\- but he isn't able to send them.__

__He doesn't want to ask for forgiveness. He doesn't want it like this -_ _

__

__In the end, he sends one letter._ _

__

__He never expected a reply, and he doesn't get it either. But the letter isn't sent back, which means it was _received._ _ _

__And he understands, that the fact the letter wasn't sent back - is a way of showing acceptance. Its enough for now._ _

__

( - _To Severus Snape,_ he's written. - )

__

__

__

____


	2. when you should be soaring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > _sometimes they ask me if i know you,  
>  a million memories fly through my head  
> and i see your smile  
> and i see your scars  
> and then i say, "i used to"_   
>  _i've been drowning for too long  
>  and i think you'll come find me  
> someday  
> you'll remember the bright-burn  
> we left behind  
> and you'll remember  
> how we used to be  
> you'll remember  
> that we were unstoppable _   
>  _we won't crumble when we're apart  
>  promise me  
> i won't crumble without you,  
> i'll rise -  
> you won't crumble without me,  
> you'll rise -  
> we'll do it for each other _   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _loving_ non linear timelines

_____

Marlene McKinnon kisses Dorcas Meadowes, and the world explodes around them. 

It isn't in the romantic sense - no, Marlene hears Bellatrix Lestrange's cackling taunts - she hears screamed curses and shattering noises, Dorcas's heartbeat and her own - her family isn't home, but they're about to come back anytime - 

Marlene grabs Dorcas's arm, twisting on her heel, but _the tugging sensation doesn't come_ \- they've put up Anti-Apparition Wards, it's obvious and Marlene's heart sinks - 

The door of the bedroom slides open, just a bare inch, not the violent swing she had been expecting - like someone coming in to hide - Marlene raises her wand, curse ready on her lips when she sees the dark robes and the silver mask, but then he brings his finger to his mouth in an unmistakable _shushing_ manner. 

He flicks his wand in a general direction, even as Marlene brings up a wordless shield around Dorcas and her - conjuring a patronus easily. 

The silver fox swishes its tail, in a way that's somehow disdainful. 

What he says next, Marlene will probably remember her whole life - the shock, the confusion - the recognition she feels when the death eater speaks - 

_"Sirius, back up,"_ the man whispers, breathlessly, his voice so familiar. _"Now. Mckinnon' Manor. Its surrounded by death eaters, hurry the fuck up."_

Before Marlene can react to _that_ particular exchange - before Marlene can even register the word _Sirius_ , can even give herself time to breathe, she hears footsteps and yelling - her father's back. Her mother would be with him. And her little cousin. And her aunt. 

She's moving before she realises it, Dorcas next to her, when she hears the man speak behind her once more, "I'm sorry about this, McKinnon. You'll be safer this way," he says, in a truly apologetic tone. 

The stunner hits her evenly on the head. 

When she wakes up, she's in Hogwarts, Dorcas on her bedside - and she can vaguely hear shouting from the other room. Dorcas smiles at her. 

"Where are my parents - where's Allison?" Marlene asks, mouth dry, trying to sit upright. "Are - are they - " 

"They're okay. All perfectly fine," Dorcas replies, a small smile on her face, brows furrowed. "They're inside the Ward. You can go meet them soon." 

Marlene nods, feeling dizzy again as she flops her head down on the pillow, and falls asleep. 

When she wakes up, Dumbledore wants to talk to her. He reassures that she's feeling fine, before he asks her if she knows how they escaped. _There were almost twenty of Lord Voldemort's best death eaters. And five of you._ She exchanges a look with Dorcas, before asking Dumbledore if he asked her parents about it, because she isn't sure. 

"I remember being stunned from the back," she says, truthfully, because she doesn't yet _know_ for sure if she wants to tell him what she's sure she heard the death eater say. "Then - well - I woke up here." 

_Safer._

_Back-up._

_Her family's safe, too._

The missing pieces are rearranging themselves slowly in her head - that posh voice, tall, lean - 

_Sirius._

_Regulus Black._

_______

" - we'll have to start somewhere, so you take the Zwei Towers, I'll take the Bridge Area, and the Infirmary Wings, so Felix and Nashvin can take the Lake, the seashore and the fields. We'll do the Ausbildung Centre, the Library, the Duelling Halls, East/West Corridors and that whole courtyard area near where Grindelwald's marked his sign, together," Sebastian finishes, and Alex nods in understanding. They've all started talking like that, using German where convenient, incorporating it almost naturally. "Frederick can do Classes." 

"Then, we'll have a basic draft of the place," Sebastian continues, smiling slightly. "And Alex and I can place the tracing spells. Just make sure you - " 

" - _deal with every inch,"_ Felix finishes for him, because Sebastian has already repeated this a hundred times. "We will. And mark every corner and twist and turn and wall. _Understood."_

"Yeah," Sebastian says, nodding. "One hour, all of you. We'll meet back in the dormitory." 

"Can you even _imagine_ what we can do with an actual map of Durmstrang?" Nashvin says, abruptly, excitedly. "A map that works the way Seb described would be - " 

They all look at him, and he grinds to a halt, sheepish. 

Sebastian smiles, and its _nostalgic_ \- but Alex has no idea who he might be remembering. 

_____

In a small magical village, south of London, near a huge magical forest, there's a house. 

The villagers call the inhabitants of the house crazy or _eccentric,_ with fondness - 

Severus Snape, apprentice to Potions Master, Damocles Belby - comes out of the house at seven every morning, and picks leaves and roots for his potions, stands in the sun for a while and then goes back inside.

He's a quiet man, but he's ambitious in his own sense - when he's asked what he wants to do after the apprenticeship, he says that he'll do what he's always wanted to do - a Mastery in Defense and Research Work in the Dark Arts. He clarifies that Potions is something that was first taught to him by his late mother, and he wants that connection to remain, wants to do what she always wanted to do, but didn't get the chance to. He has remarkable skill in it as well, but his real interest lies in curses and jinxes and spells and -

In one world, Severus Snape has a mark on his left forearm and harsh, bitter regrets. He has hatred in his veins and poison in his words. He has ice in his heart and a war he _doesn't want to fight._

In this world, his arm is unblemished, but he has a thin, long scar on his forehead from when a werewolf almost mauled him. He has no war to fight, because _he made a choice._

Most of all - in his cupboard, he has half a sheet of parchment, written to him by a man who he would have hated in another world.

_( - I don’t ask for forgiveness, because I don't deserve it yet and real forgiveness can only be earned. But I want you to know, that truly, truly, I am sorry. Not just for that particular night, but for five years of cruelty - )_

_( - take care, Snape -_

_\- Sirius Black - )_

_____

Its in their final year that Alex comes across the photo. Its a complete accident - the photo is lying with its front to the ground near Alex's bed, when he picks it up, not realising who's it is. Sebastian's always been so careful about his true identity, his past - that it never even occurs to Alex that it might be his before he picks it up. 

Its a photo with six people in it - four boys, and an elderly couple, with dark hair and kind eyes. One of the boys in the middle must be Sebastian, even though Sebastian looks nowhere as carelessly happy as the boy in the picture, his expression not holding that slightly aristocratic touch anymore - 

What _is_ Sebastian's last name? 

The other boy in the middle, on Seb's left also has dark hair, and he's winking at the camera, his smirk almost identical to Sebastian's. Next to them is a tall, slightly sickly looking boy with light brown hair - waving as he smiles, and a shorter, slightly chubby boy with brown hair, blinking confusedly before flashing a quick grin. 

The picture's titled at the back, shortly. It says, in Sebastian's elegant cursive - 

_Christmas '75  
Potters' _

Potters. 

Alex carefully picks up the photo and keeps it face down on Sebastian's desk. 

Potter, he tells himself. Potters. Britain, then. London. _Hogwarts?_

He finds out who Sebastian is, not long after. 

_Sirius Black,_ he tells himself, now. 

He'll keep his secrets.

_____

Sirius tells Regulus about Durmstrang. Tells him what he's been upto all these years. 

" - and these are - Alex Verlac," Sirius says, as Regulus sweeps his gaze over the group. "Felix Durmont, Nashvin Urov, Frederick Wood, and Hector Zhang. _This_ is my brother," he gestures towards Regulus, like he's told them about him before. The thought is annoyingly nice. 

"Yeah, no shit," Alex or - Nashvin? mutters, and Regulus shrugs, they look the same, so it is kind of obvious. 

He nods, "Regulus Black," he introduces, shaking their offered hands. "Nice to meet you." 

"You too," Felix Durmont says, too quickly - and Regulus can swear he's blushing. Its not an unpleasant look on him. 

"Are you some kind of genius, too?" Wood asks, snorting, instantly making Regulus worry because _what kind of bullshit has Sirius been upto that they think he's anyhow gifted in the intellectual department?_ "Duelling Championship at 18 kind of genius?" 

Regulus blinks. Sorts out the snippets in his head, all the way through to a tiny piece of news he read almost two years back. Sirius is looking simultaneously proud, like _Sirius should, the Sirius he knows_ \- and sheepish. That's not like the Sirius he knows. 

_"You're Sebastian?!"_ Regulus asks, finally, incredulously. "I read that! In the Prophet. You - you _actually_ changed your name to - _god, Sirius, you're such a little - "_

And then, they're both laughing. The others look confused. Regulus supposes there is no way they can know just how _hilarious_ that is.

_( - Its the last time they go to Ville de L'ombre, a large beach house the Black Family owns on the French shore, when Sirius is nine and Regulus is seven._

_"Look what I found lying under the pier, Reg!" Sirius yells excitedly, as he comes running into the room, rosy-cheeked, bright-eyed. "Its a Muggle Book, can you believe it?!"_

_It's thin, blue and well-worn, the letters in pretty cursive. Regulus doesn't know if its safe to touch, but he's certain that Mother wouldn't think it is. He tells Sirius that. Sirius scoffs, and flips open the book to the last page._

_There's a painted picture of a big, shaggy white dog, standing next to a small boy who's beaming, his arm on the dog. He looks so happy. Dirty clothes, shabby hair, chipped front tooth and just so - happy._

_"The picture doesn't even move, Sirius!" Regulus observes, fascinated._

_"Of course it doesn't," Sirius says, with a wise air about him. "It doesn't need to. The words are enough."_

_"You read it?!" Regulus asks, and Sirius winks. He's learnt how to wink quite recently._

_"Yeah, I did," he says, proudly. "Its about this little boy who has no family, but he has his dog and he's just so smart, you know, there's a war going on and they trick all the - "_

_"What's that, Sirius?" Mother's voice cuts in. They both startle, Sirius trying to hide the book behind himself in vain. Mother flicks her wand, and the book goes zooming into her hands immediately. Sirius tenses next to Regulus._

_"Did you really read this muggle filth?" she asks, softly, dangerously - daring him to say yes. "And you found it - entertaining - or even, educational?"_

_Sirius has never been one to back out of a challenge. Just like Mother, actually. But just because something is genetic, doesn't mean its going to be okay._

_"Yeah, I did," he says, his fists clenched, stubborn expression - deliberately saying 'yeah' instead of 'yes.' "And I loved it. Its a brillant book."_

_Mother laughs a little, but there's something cold in her eyes - and without a pause, without hesitation, she slashes her wand downwards._

_The book burns - and Regulus watches, horrifed, unable to look away._

_He glances at Sirius, and if he hadn't known any better, he would have said that Sirius was smiling slightly, a triumphant glint in his eye._

_When they return home two days later, Sirius comes to Regulus's room, locks it and smirks as he pulls out the blue book, unburnt, completely the same._

_"They all underestimate the little kids, don't they?" Sirius says, mockingly. "Mother really thinks I'm stupid enough to bring the real copy five feet near her anywhere!"_

_"Real copy?" Regulus asks, confused._

_Sirius's smirk widens, and he touches the book with his hand lightly, shutting his eyes in concentration. Regulus blinks and looks down, and there are two books now. Sirius can - he can already - do real magic!_

_They read the book at night in bed together, and Regulus loves it._

_"Someday, Reg, we'll both get a big white dog," he says. "And go for adventures around the world. We'll be like heroes."_

_"Black dog," Regulus corrects. "I like black dogs more. And we're Blacks," he points out, and Sirius shrugs, nodding, "Alright, then. A big, black dog."_

_Seven years later, when Sirius doesn't come back home, Regulus searches his room until he finds the book. In bold, white french, it says, just like Regulus remembers -_

_"Belle et Sébastien par Cécile Aubry - 1965"_

_Regulus wonders if Sirius remembers that he promised to take Regulus along, too. - )_

"Sort of fit the theme, didn't it?" Sirius asks, now. 

"Sort of," he agrees. 

"No, by the way," Regulus adds to the others, all false modesty. "I'm not some kind of genius. Though, I _am_ a better dueller than Sirius. Always have been." 

Sirius doesn't protest, shrugging in a _well, can't have everything_ manner. Felix's cheeks are red, as the others look doubtfully at Regulus, who laughs at the scrutiny.

_______

James is sitting on the couch, Harry next to him - giggling and smiling - Lily's standing near the kitchen counter - James has his wand out, it shoots colorful bubbles - and Harry _loves them,_ he's clapping excitedly -

The silver form materialises in front of James in an instant, as Lily gasps at the misty form - and James stares, swallowing, _because he knew it, they never believed him, he knew it_ \- the big, silver, _grim-like dog_ opens its mouth and -

_"Peter's a death eater,"_ Sirius's voice - because it has to be Sirius's, says. _"He's sold you out. Voldemort's coming for you. Tonight. Run, Prongs."_

Prongs. _Prongs._ That wasn't Remus. That wasn't Peter. Its not their voice and its not their patroni forms, and they've never used that name since sixth year. Nobody even remembers it, probably. 

James can't think at all - _Peter can't be a death eater_ \- and Sirius, Sirius, Sirius, god - James knew it - he's smiling, he thinks, its like his insides are melting - 

"James, _get up!_ "" Lily yells, pulling him up by the elbow, her voice panicked, Harry on her hip. "Was that - " 

"I - I don't," he can't speak, can't _think._

"James, we're going," she says, decidedly, hefting Harry up. "Hogwarts. Now. I don't care if it was a false message - I don't care who it was - we're going to Dumbledore _right now - "_

They apparate to Hogsmeade just as the gate outside creaks open.

_____

In one world, Sirius suggests Peter to be the secret keeper. 

Sirius hunts Peter, and is captured instead. 

In this world, a world where Sirius barely remembers Peter, a world where James trusts Peter enough for it, all on his own, makes him their secret keeper himself - a world where Peter's supposed betrayal is nothing more than simple cowardice from a teenage boy Sirius once knew, nothing that truly hurts _him,_ really - Sirius _lets go._

_Peter runs._

______

Alex is with Sebastian when he sees the printed letters - _James Potter and Lily Evans -_

"Sirius?" Alex asks, looking at the dark haired man with spectacles, and the tall, smiling woman with red hair in the photo. 

"Hmm?" Sirius-Sebastian asks, before he freezes, back straightening as he turns to Alex, eyes wide. "You - " 

"Know," Alex says, before smiling slightly. "I won't tell." 

Sirius stares at him for a few moments, before he shakes his head, exhaling. "Thanks," he says, in a would-be-casual voice, if it wasn't so rough. 

"Alex Lester Verlac," he introduces, extending a hand forward. 

Sirius just looks at the hand for a second, before grasping it, lips twitching upwards. 

"Sirius Orion Black," he says, and something in Alex twists. _Sirius Orion Black,_ his words push out in that posh aristocratic accent, like he can't help it. Sirius grins like he was grinning in the photograph. "You're a good guy, Alex." 

"So are you," he replies, quietly. 

There's a long pause, and Sirius's fingers tap on the newspaper anxiously. 

"These are your - friends, yes?" Alex asks, squinting at the couple. 

"Its - they _were,"_ Sirius says, sounding a little hesitant. "I - its a long story. Its funny actually, they used to hate each other in school. James used to tell me that he is going to marry her, someday," he smiles a bit, huffing. 

" - he was right, I guess. Like _always,"_ Sirius frowns, "But they're very private people, though, from what I knew of them. Certainly not those with a front page wedding. I wonder if - if this is James's way of - telling me that its okay. That - " 

" - you can go back home, now?" Alex guesses. Sirius nods, and tearing out the news, with the photo and the article, he puts the torn paper in his pocket and turns over the page. "And _are_ you going to do that?" 

"Not yet," Sirius whispers. "Not until I figure it out."

_Figure what out?_

Alex doesn't ask.

_____

In one world, Remus Lupin is in the largest, most dangerous werewolf camp when he gets Dumbledore's owl. It gives him away as a spy almost immediately. He runs, _escaping a painful death by a hair._ Its that world where, when he returns home, he finds it empty. He's friendless - three of his friends dead, one even worse off. _A traitor. In Azkaban._ He returns to a life he would rather not live.

In this world, Remus Lupin doesn't get any owl. 

What he does get, however, is a wand pressed against his neck, a hand on his mouth and a whispered, _"Don’t speak. Follow me."_

Under the dark of the new moon, Remus Lupin follows, quietly - he has absolutely no intention of waking up any of the werewolves, they're all highly violent, and they don't owe him any loyalty - or worse, Greyback. Remus really, _really_ doesn't want to wake Greyback. 

When they reach the clearing, the man removes the wand from where its been digging into Remus's throat, and sends up silencing charms. They're quick, wordless - he's trained well. The scars give him away, though, like usual, and the scent - _they're claw marks_. He maybe dressed too well to be a lowly werewolf, and good at magic - but then again, so is Remus. The man, his attacker - is definitely a _werewolf, too._

Which, obviously - he would hardly be able to enter the camp if he wasn't one. 

"My name is Frederick Wood," he says, his voice hushed. "And you're Remus Lupin, yes?" 

Remus nods out of habit, before realising that was stupid. His fingers still on his wand, in his left pocket. He would have to be quick if he wants to draw it - 

"I need to get you out," he says, and Remus raises an eyebrow. You don't just _walk_ out of Greyback's camp. Its in or out, _in or dead_. "We need your help to - " 

"What makes you think I would _help_ you?" Remus asks, honestly confused. He has no idea who this man is, if he's Greyback's man sent to test him, or Voldemort's, already knowing he's a spy. "What makes you think I'm not Greyback's wolf, through and through?" 

Wood smirks, which looks slightly sinister on his face. "Because I know _you_ , Remus Lupin. And I know that you're _upto no good."_

It has to be a coincidence. Its not possible, the phrase he's chosen - completely _impossible -_

_"Trouble_ in the woods, _cub?"_

There's a rustling sound from behind them, and Remus knows that they're done for. 

"Fenrir Greyback," Wood says, quite pleasantly, for a person who's been caught assisting or atleast affiliating with a spy in another wolf's pack. That too, one as viciously territorial, as savage as Greyback. "I've heard quite a lot about you." 

"All bad things, I hope?" Greyback asks, in a gravelly whisper and Remus can sense him smiling. 

"Pathetic, mostly," Wood replies, briskly, fearlessly - and suddenly, his wand is in his hand, and he's shooting spells - putting Remus in literally the worst possible position - because _who is he supposed to help?_ \- Remus steps away quickly, setting up silencing wards again, but Wood's spells keep piercing them. 

Greyback growls, as he sidesteps the red light, his fingernails extending into sharp claws - 

"You dare come to my own base and attack me?" he asks, loudly, and already the sounds of the other wolves waking up are starting to come. Greyback is pouncing, Wood has his wand twirling and flicking, curses shooting out in rhythmic succession. "You _dare_ attack me using the method of those who shun us - ?" 

"I - am - not - foolish," Wood says, panting, emphasising each word with a curse. Most curses, like Remus expects, bounce right off. Werewolves are immune to a lot of them, unless hit in specific places. "You think I would give up my wand? - You wouldn't give up your teeth or your nails, you _animal_ , and I wouldn't give up my magic for a misplaced sense of loyalty! You think you're just a wolf, so you are! _I, I am a wizard, _as well - a wizard, first - "__

"Grow up, boy," Greyback snarls, his nail finally striking across Wood's neck, who hisses and slashes his wand, opening a large, deep wound right across Greyback's chest. "Wizards have no respect for those who they call creatures! If they think we're dark, then show them what being _dark means - "_

_"Respect needs to be earned,"_ Wood says, softly, and his curse blasts Greyback off his feet and onto the ground, clutching his head, his chest bleeding profusely. "And you - _are_ and would be a dark creature, with or _without lycanthropy."_

Greyback's still holding his head, massaging his throat. 

"Good with that stick, are you, boy?" Greyback asks, and Remus can tell its a last ditch attempt, even as he points at Remus. "Who taught you? You weren't a _hidden Hogwarts werewolf,_ like this one." 

Remus stares at Greyback on the ground, blank-faced. 

"You're right," Wood says, lowly, a slight smirk on his face. 

He raises his wand once more, in an unfamiliar pattern and flames burst across Greyback's body, silver and blue and purple and red - 

_Its silver. Across his skin. That's burning. Choking him. Engulfing him_ , Remus realises, as he swallows the sickening feeling rising in his stomach, Greyback's coated in some form of burning liquid silver - _molten, hot silver._

"You're right," Wood repeats, his voice normal, despite the horrifying sight in front of them. "I didn't study at Hogwarts."

He swipes his wand and the flames rise higher, blue and bright and dancing.

"I studied at _Durmstrang."_

Greyback screams. Wood wrinkles his nose like Greyback is an annoying pest - and puts a silencing charm on him. He's still sort of audible. Its - _unsettling._ But, Remus has stayed in this camp for two weeks. He's personally seen how horrible Greyback is - how utterly savage, how _cruel, how positively evil._ Remus can't bring himself to help. He doesn't even know if its _possible_ to help.

Greyback's screams suddenly die out. 

_He's dead._

Which is obviously why, at that precise moment - atleast five wolves burst out into the clearing, taking in the three wolves - Greyback lying dead across the path.

Frederick doesn't look scared even now. Remus certainly does _feel_ scared. They will not get out of this, if they don't work together.

He brings his wand up his sleeve, concentrating as hard as he can - _Imperio, Imperio, Imperio - Say it, say it, say it now, come on - its the truth, Greyback is dead, do it, say it -_

Lycaon, or atleast that's what he called himself - Greyback's second, the oldest werewolf in the camp - is standing right in the centre - Remus points the wand at him as high as he dares to -

_Say it. Greyback's dead - undeserving - IMPERIO -_

"Our ancient traditions dictate a battle between the Alpha and the Challenger," Lycaon says, his eyes glazed over, and Remus almost lets out a relieved sigh. Frederick looks at him curiously. "Seems like we have a new Alpha."

He bows deeply, before holding out his right hand in the three-clawed gesture that werewolves make to show solidarity, to show loyalty - and Remus is only too happy to support it - he bows down too, for show, the younger wolves are coming, all of them listening to their eldest - all of them bowing too - 

"Hail," the werewolf at the back shouts, and then, its mayhem - they're all getting down on their knees. _"Hail for the new Alpha - "_

By the time Lycaon realises what's happened, Remus will hopefully be out of here, and Lycaon would be too prideful to admit his mistake -

Remus really, _really_ hopes Frederick will get the charade that Remus's playing, the game that will win over the pack, something that Remus has been failing to do since almost a year, that Frederick will understand the benefits of leading a pack of a hundred fully-grown werewolves -

He doesn't disappoint.

He bows back with dignity, wand out of sight, right hand in the three-clawed gesture. He catches Remus's eye from the corner of his own, and _winks._

In this world, Remus Lupin comes back home _with a pack behind him_.

_____

"Alex Verlac," the short, thin man with light brown hair introduces. He has a slight accent, but its not very clear, so James can't tell. 

They're currently standing on the path that leads to Hogwarts from Hogsmeade, the man blocking their way. "You must be - James Potter and er - " 

"Lily Potter," Lily says, skipping the 'Evans' which is a sure sign that she's not feeling very good. 

"Yes, I was told you might come - " he says, starting to smile. 

"Who are you?" James asks, very politely, making sure his wand is in hand. "I'm afraid we don't feel comfortable talking to a man who we only know the name of, that too, with no verification - " 

"Ah," the man says, ducking his head. "Fair enough. Shall we go in, then? I don’t know exactly how you had planned to get inside - " 

They hadn't, yet, James thinks. But he knows _atleast_ seven ways. 

" - but I have permission from the Headmaster," Verlac continues. "So we can - " 

There's a _popping_ sound, and James curses, spinning around with an almost involuntary shield, they should _not_ have stopped, they should have hexed this man, however non-threatening he appeared to be and gone to Hogwarts through the Three Broomsticks passageway -

The man who's apparated, stumbles onto the path - looking around frantically until he catches James's eye.

James pauses, hex _on the tip of his tongue because -_

"Alex, what the hell are you doing?!" Regulus Black yells, his wand sending sparks off as he waves it, gesturing towards the school. " _Go inside the fucking building now, Potter - "_

"I'm taking Harry in, James," Lily says, suddenly, firmly - like she usually is, with Harry-related matters. "Two minutes. Sort this out, alright?" 

She speed-walks to the pub. Nobody moves to stop her. 

"Hello, Regulus," Alex says, calmly. Why is this man always so calm? Its extraordinarily annoying. "We got your messages." 

"So, what are you still doing here _chatting with Potter?_ "" Regulus asks, sneering - the expression reminding James so much of - 

"He's hardly in immediate danger here, is he?" Alex asks, sticking his wand in his pocket and turning to the path. "Your school is beautiful, you know. Warmer. More - " 

"Yes, yes," James interrupts, frankly run out of patience. And bewilderment. "It's _great._ I'm guessing Baby Black here - " 

Regulus makes a growling noise, and Alex gives a surprised laugh, probably because he didn't know Regulus as the runty little kid brother who barely reached James's shoulder. 

" - is the reason we're still alive?" he finishes, eyebrows rising. 

"Don’t read into it, _Potter,"_ Regulus says, with a derisive scoff. "I still _loathe_ you." 

James would expect nothing less. 

Alex looks highly amused. 

"Feeling's mutual," James says, flippantly, with an indulging smile. "Can we go in, then? And talk - about, well - about whatever the fuck is going on?"

______

When the room blinks into light, Frederick Wood almost screams. _He's dead, he's dead, they've all found out - after six years of constant hiding, they know, they know, they know -_

But, leaning on the wall, knee kicked up, one shoe flat on the wall - is only Sebastian - eyes sharp, smug kind of smile on his face. 

"No _fucking_ way," Sebastian says, almost wondrously, like he hasn't just given Frederick a mini heart attack. "I knew it. This is _just my luck._ Its like a school isn't complete without one." 

Frederick takes a calming breath. He _knows_ what to do if this progressed - he had six curses in mind, ranging from simple jinxes, all the way to memory-erasing and hallucination-generating. Besides, there was no real reason to believe that Sebastian _knew._ Yet. 

"I couldn't sleep," Frederick says, evenly, casually, but the accent which appears in his voice only when he's nervous, sort of gives him away. "Was just going for a walk outside - " 

"In the early _moonlight?_ "" Sebastian smirks, pushing himself from the wall with his shoulder. _He knows, but how - how can he know, its not possible at all - he came a month ago -_

"It was hard to tell, frankly," Sebastian continues, like he can read Frederick's mind. "I wondered, when I saw the scars. And your private room? It isn't just because our year has odd number of students, is it?" 

"No," he finds himself saying, _god, the scars._ "Don’t think I'll hesitate to defend myself if - " 

"And your disappearances?" Sebastian says, with a knowing smile - ignoring him, he's pretty sure he's shaking now. With fear or anger - or the full moon, Frederick doesn't know. "All explained away, so easily - with monthly classes with the _Headmaster_ himself. And there's always two days free in the month for outdoor activities, _coincidentally right after the full moons,_ but of course - you deliberately don't make friends, so nobody bothers to find you. _'Frederick Wood, yeah, he stays in his room reading on free days, too.""_

"What do you _want?"_ Frederick asks, after Sebastian neatly - easily - summarizes all the lies he's lived around the past seven years. "I'm not going to let you hold this over me - " 

"I had no intentions of trying that," Sebastian says, something dark flickering in his eyes, before he smiles slightly again. Its a - a - _kind_ smile. "I just didn't know - that Durmstrang takes in werewolves." 

Frederick suppresses a flinch at the term - but only just. Its disconcerting to talk about it, with anyone. 

"It doesn't," he says, in a matter-of-factly, clipped tone. "I'm a special case." 

Sebastian raises an eyebrow. Frederick glances out of the window, and its still quite early. They have plenty of time. And somehow, Frederick doesn't know why, _he feels like telling Sebastian._ He feels like trusting him. So, he does. 

"My father and the Headmaster were students at Durmstrang together," he begins, only a little hesitant, there's something so _understanding_ in Sebastian's eyes. "Old friends, the closest you can be with anyone - they fought in the war together. During the final battle, before Dumbledore reached, before their duel - " 

Sebastian makes an odd sound in his throat. 

" - Grindelwald's troops had captured the whole Northern base," he continues. "Uncle Kaspar miscalculated, sent my father running straight into a pack of Creatures. Vampires, Werewolves, raging Veela's. My father was bitten, and - rescued before they could kill him. I was _born a werewolf.""_

Sebastian's eyes widen. 

"And because it was Vogler's fault that your father was bitten," Sebastian guesses. "He let you attend the school when he became the Headmaster." 

"Yes," Frederick agrees. "Though, I often think he would have let me attend if it wasn't even his mistake. My father is like a brother to him." 

Sebastian blinks at that statement, his face pulling bitterly - like he had remembered something unpleasant. 

"Where do you go, then?" Sebastian asks, eyes searching. "For your transformation." 

He says transformation like he's said it before. 

"Trench Woods," Frederick replies, cautiously. "The part near the Siberian Lake. There are wards set up around it, that keeps the wolf - that keep _me_ inside." 

Sebastian nods thoughtfully, before grinning. 

_"Need some company, tonight?"_

_____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _don't call me out on my bullshit, please, i'm just having fun_
> 
> also can we be honest 
> 
> since ao3 got the new filter options for kudos and comments, new stories are just not taking off well 
> 
> its sorta annoying
> 
> if anyone wants to, you can promote your stories in the comment sections of any of my fics, i don't mind
> 
> story now includes a new tag that i personally love - Snape Chills And Does Nothing, and I can say for almost certain that this is the first fic in which we just let Snape sit the war out 
> 
> let him live dude


	3. you're terrible, but let me love you anyway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > _are you chasing my ghost, yet?  
>  i never chased yours  
> "he's so cold, so indifferent - "  
> that's a lie, and you know it  
> "the only thing i'm good at is hiding my feelings from you"  
> i don't want to  
> sleep in a  
> city that never wakes up  
> and i don't want to sleep  
> knowing you're a ghost  
> but  
> i'm back now  
> so don't you say you miss me  
> when its your fault i was gone_   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i liked this chapter, coz we have salty barty and oblivious regulus

______

Harry is okay. Lily is okay. James is okay.

Harry is okay. Lily is okay. And Sirius is -

James can't stop the anxious finger tapping he's doing, even as Lily tells him to _calm down, Potter_ , and Regulus Black won't stop staring at him. Its like he's trying to read his mind. James has never been much of an expert at Occlumency, and Regulus is apparently a _spy_ , he must be a natural at it - so James keeps avoiding his eyes. And Alex Verlac's face annoys James, because who the _hell_ is he to casually say that he's Sirius's friend? 

Dumbledore still hasn't come. Peter - 

_Don't think about Peter right now._

Sirius is out there, somewhere.

_Sirius is out there, somewhere, and he's going to come back. Soon. To Hogwarts. Where James is._

"James, can you hold Harry for a second? I wanna get some air," Lily asks, suddenly, getting up from the chair where she had been sitting and rocking Harry in her lap. They're currently sitting in Mcgonagall's Office, except Mcgonagall isn't here. The last time James _was_ in this particular office, it was with - 

"Sure," he says, taking Harry from her, as he sucks his thumb - almost asleep. James has tried so many times to get him to quit this thumb sucking thing, but its a clear no-go. Sometimes, James is convinced that the boy's half-cannibal. Then, James thinks about how he's had to make stupid cannibal jokes, and that familiar, red-hot feeling rises, _because if Sirius were here, he would make these jokes instead -_

He can't finger tap at the same time as Harry's in his lap. Its mildly centering. Regulus is still looking at him, unimpressed. Flat. 

"Potter," he says, sounding hesitant. "Why don't you - and Evans - " 

"Its Evans-Potter," he mutters, which Regulus ignores. 

" - go and stay in a guest room until everything is sorted out? Till Dumbledore comes back?" he suggests, looking at Harry in an almost _fearful_ way. "The castle has loads of those, and you've all had a long night, surely - " 

James sighs, and nods, propping Harry up on his shoulders - which makes Regulus's eyes widen in panic. _Of course,_ James thinks, with a mental eye-roll. _Trust Regulus Black to be comfortable with spying on the death eaters and curses that torture and kill you, but look uneasily at babies._ Admittedly, he _has_ always had something strange with the House Elves, too.

Regulus walks out with him, and then goes down to Hogsmeade - to apparate back to wherever he needs to be. Some Death Eater Manor, probably. 

James finds Lily, she's standing on the grounds, talking to Flitwick - a personal favorite professor of hers - _besides Mcgonagall, of course, James_ \- who also loves her back with the same bias. _Charms Club_ , he thinks fondly, as he sees Lily laughing. 

They head inside together, trying to find a guest room - or extra, empty staff quarters - without Filch's help. Its not very difficult. They find it quite easily. 

The room is empty, white sheets drawn on one double bed, and there's obviously nobody staying here, because there's no luggage anywhere. James flops down on the bed, taking care to transfigure the small wardrobe into a crib before, to place Harry. Lily piles it up with pillows and blankets, until Harry seems to be warm - and as comfortable as possible at the moment.

He's slept. _Thank Merlin._

James covers his eyes from the lights with one forearm, yawning as Lily sets up her standard protective charms, on Harry’s crib - _to stop him from fallling, to stop him from going beyond the certain range of temperature, to wake her up immediately if he makes a sound of distress_ \- and the door of the room itself, mostly to muffle sounds. 

James idly opens the side table drawer, expecting to find old parchment or broken quills - and instead sees -

Its -

Oh. _Oh._ The room is apparently occupied. It was just _so_ clean, unlike Sirius's usual -

But James doesn't know that, does he? He _doesn't_ know what Sirius's usual is, anymore.

James looks at Lily once, she's half asleep already, and - this is a horrible violation of Sirius's privacy, and he should probably _not_ do it, not even try it -

_"I solemnly swear that I am upto no good,"_ he guesses, whispering - and he's right, the password _was_ that - the Locking Charm on the Journal, Sirius's journal - unlocks, as it swings open - newspaper articles falling out of it.

James looks at Lily and himself smiling, Lily lifting her wedding veil, bouquet in hand - he and Remus standing close - Remus is grinning. The grainy black and white picture is happy. _Sirius did see it. And he kept it._ It means more than James can explain.

He can't help but smile.

There are articles about Hogwarts, various snippets about new Defense Professors - _James has no clue how he dealt with those without Sirius_ \- which Sirius seems to have torn out, too, and a large one, again - of Harry’s birth. James had gotten that printed too, because he couldn't help but hope that Sirius would come back when he saw it -

_( - "What'll it take for you to help me with this?" thirteen year old James had asked, pouting, head ducked to avoid Professor Binns' line of sight._

_"Your newest Evans' scheme?" Sirius asked, clearly biting back a smile, inclined on the two back legs of his chair._

_"Its not a scheme, its a - " James stopped, seeing Sirius's face, gritting his teeth and exhaling loudly. "Yes. Yes, my newest Evans' scheme. What will it take for you to help me with this?"_

_"Your firstborn child?" Sirius suggested idly, grinning._

_"What?" James said, confused. "My firstborn - Sirius, he's all yours. And - you'll be, you know godfather and all, right?"_

_Sirius's chair hit the ground loudly, but when James turned, his expression was completely normal. "Of course, James. Godfather. Right. Yes. Of course." - )_

James smiled as he looked at the torn pages, notes passed in classes and unsigned detention slips - _Be my Yule Ball date, deer Prongs?_ \- so many little proofs of their friendship, so many small, scattered things that had meant so much to James, too - _Let's go Stag together, Padfoot_ \- letters that James and Remus and Peter had sent half a decade back, the last of them dating back to fifth year - _Cheers, Potter_ \- 

Stuck on the first page, like actually stuck there - is the untidiest, shortest, most harried - worried note that James had ever sent Sirius -

_( - James had gone into a panicked frenzy the second the owl came back._

_In Sirius's bold, curled script, it said -_

_Things are getting pretty bad here, Prongs, reckon I might pop for a day or_

_There was blood on the parchment._

_Blood. Two, maybe three drops, spilled right at the edge, that Sirius had clearly tried cleaning up - but only managed smearing it._

_And Sirius hadn't even managed finishing the thought. James had written back, giving his owl a huge treat to get the letter to Sirius as soon as possible._

_He remembered that night, That Night - and here was proof that it had happened -_

_Sirius, get out of there. Now. Or I'm coming to get you. I've got a room ready for you._

_James stared at the little parchment on the journal, and wondered if that moment had meant a lot more to Sirius than it had seemed. - )_

He _really_ shouldn't turn the page over. But then again - when had James ever done what _should_ be done?

He turned the page over, scanning the cursive -

Starting from - _The Whomping Willow Incident_ , as they had all started calling it - there was less about what Sirius was upto than what was going on in his head, millions of scratched out sentences, little lines crossed and underlined - some really striking James -

_Wrote a letter to Snape. Guess that's what I should call him now. Seems strange that the only person I could possibly gather the courage to send a letter to, was somebody I hated once._

_~~Dear Regulus,~~ _

_I must be the only person in the world to personally have two werewolf friends, both being the calmest, quietest, sweetest - ~~fuck I miss you, Moony~~ \- _

_~~To James,~~_

_God, they all sound so poncy. James would hate it. And I really can't bear the thought of him hating me when I'm not there to see. That's probably why I don't think about Hogwarts anymore. Can't. ~~Think I would breakdo -~~ _

_~~Dear Remus,~~ _

James swallowed, slightly unsteady - Sirius didn't _actually_ think James could possibly hate him, Merlin knows how much James tried to find him -

_  
Durmstrang is better than Hogwarts in quite a lot of ways, I realise. They allow their students to stay behind in the school dormitories if they have nowhere to go for summer hols. Imagine that at Hogwarts. I wouldn't have ever gone back to Grimmauld. Atleast, then, I had a choice. I don't know where I would have gone if we weren't allowed to stay in school. (I practically have no money, Vogler's been a gem.)_

_Which is why, I'm here, alone and writing - like a complete nerd._

_Students think I'm a total swot, you know. Its funny, how in Hogwarts, we were the ones who -_

_You'd be so proud, Remus, I've been studying worse than you. Morning and night and anytime, really, because everything aside from that reminds me of you. Of Hogwarts. Vogler's a good man, you know. A good teacher. He sees my class reports every week, or something - and he's - pretty encouraging. Calls me sometimes to teach me spells. Interesting ones. Nobody's ever taken that kind of initiative with me. I suppose there was never any need of it._

_He reminds me of Mr. Potter, sometimes. I can't go a second here without thinking about you all. Its mildly depressing. Think I deserve it, though.  
_

God, no, he doesn't - he never deserved this - James can still not wrap his head around the idea that Sirius went to Durmstrang -

_Dear James,  
I don't even know how to exactly start off, and I'll add that to the list of things I apologize for. I'm really, really sorry, I'm sorry that I told Snape about Moony, and every reason is practically an excuse, so I'll give you none. I'm sorry for breaking your trust. I'm sorry even for this letter, because you might not want to hear from me. I'm sorry for up and disappearing, in case you were looking. ~~I don't think you would be, though because before I left, you said that -~~ _

_You're completely pathetic, Black._

James didn't realise he was crying until he felt a teardrop fall. He didn't bother wiping it off. Sirius must have been crying, too, when he wrote this and James had to meet him, tell him that he was wrong, that James _loved_ him - that nobody could ever replace Sirius as James's brother -

_It was Cissy's wedding yesterday. To Lucius Malfoy. God, what a posh twat - though, who am I to say that? I remember Malfoy when we were all in first year and we pranked him. It was our first prank, far as I remember. Pink hair, Veritaserum, absolute classic. It was Remus's idea, and James and I got detention. It was so much fun, though, even after Malfoy tattled back home and ~~Mothe~~ Walburga locked me in the - _

_I probably deserved that, too. I should really stop complaining if I'm going to be fucking up everything good in my own life._

How dare he - how dare he think any less of himself because James was a fucking tosser, this was not how Sirius was, Sirius was confident and quick and arrogant and - James had no right to say anything about that, and Sirius had _no_ right to believe them, he shouldn't have - 

_Do you know how shitty it feels to lose everything you had? Cause it feels like I've literally got nothing more to live for, sometimes, and then I remember all the times with the marauders and I think they meant something. I hope they did for all of you. I hope I didn't damage us so much, that even you three can't be okay. I really, really hope that you all just forgot about me and -_

_That's not true, though. I'm still selfish._

James is feeling almost feverish, as he reads entry upon entry, wondering how big of a mistake he made that day, much bigger than Sirius's own, definitely -

_  
Alex is a nice guy. Good friend, funny. But I can't stop comparing. Everytime he does something, a little head in my voice goes, "James would have done this, instead," or "Remus would have definitely not done that," or sometimes, "Peter would have wet his pants at this curse" - the curses, by the way. Dark Arts here is so advanced. Sometimes, I feel its very ironic considering who I am, that I still saw the world as nothing more than Black-or-White. I suppose there's a hundred other shades._

_I can't help but wonder what Moony would say if he knew how much quieter I've become, how I'm understanding those prejudices that he kept talking about. Felix, he's kind of a tosser, reminds me of me, actually, he's one of my roommates. He's the whole trifecta, the hated-by-family, the arrogant-flippant-attitude, the not-modest-about-his-intelligence. I can watch him burning down, sometimes, though. Was I that obvious, too? I think I was, when I look back on all the wierd glances they used to pass me. And all those times when Remus tried to make awkward conversation with me._

_James never did. He just gave me another option. I appreciate that so much more than he can ever know. Sometime, I will go back. Who knows if you all will remember me, but I'll go and visit Effie and Monty sometime. Thank them for being amazing people, probably. They might even listen because I don't think James would have told them what I did. He always was too noble for his own good.  
_

James hadn't, he thought absently. He hadn't told Euphemia and Fleamont, even after all their pestering, even after Euphemia had personally gone and got _Missing_ posters put up, after Dad had told him to keep writing, inquiring and informing everybody else. 

He couldn’t even imagine forgetting Sirius. Sirius wasn't - he wasn't a come-and-go person. He was - he was - James could never possibly _forget_ about Sirius - the idea was so ludicrous, Sirius was a part of him - something always at the back of his mind -

_I've been hearing so many rumors. They talk about them here, the death eaters - Bellatrix and Lucius and - practically my whole family. But I really, really don't know if Regulus - another mistake, another fuck-up of mine, I guess. I left my real brother alone, too - and the one I considered mine all these years ~~doesn't want much to do with me either~~ _

James hadn't ever felt such an overwhelming desire to hit himself. Or to hug Sirius. Or Time Travel.

_I think I'm figuring it out, James. You told me to, remember? I'm trying, I think I'm - I don't think you would care much, but I really am trying. Nevermind that, I met this boy the other day, his name's Hector Zhang, and he's a complete whiz at Quidditch. You'll love him. He's so obsessed with it, probably more than you, Potter - and he keeps talking about it and sometimes, I'm listening and I think, "Prongs, shut up," but I don't say it by mistake, because by that time I remember that you hate me now._

_Its been almost a whole year, you know. I hope you remembered my birthday. I remembered yours. ~~And I cried~~ , but that's not important. Its been ten full moons since I left, and I hope Remus is okay. I remember you all the time, James, but I worry about Remus so much more. I don't want to come back someday and learn that I ruined his life that day. I really, really don't. Take care of him for me, okay? _

_I don't think I have to ask, though. You always were good at that._

He really thinks I hate him, James thinks, almost disbelievingly. How can he ever think that -

_  
Do all werewolves love chocolate? Is this a werewolf thing? It should probably be written up in How To Identify A Werewolf, because I've so far come across three who can't live without it. (And two of them are father-and-son, so I reckon you can stop telling yourself that you can't ever have your own family.)_

_Happy Birthday, by the way, Moony. Sometimes, I wish I could come back and erase all your memories of that night. So that when I leave, you'll remember me as someone more than just that. But I know that one wrong usually fucks up all rights. I don't know if I've ever been right, though. I haven't ever been described as 'good.' James is good, Peter is good, and you, Remus, you're literally the paragon of goodness. I'm - smart. I'm brave, sometimes. I liked to think I'm loyal - but perhaps not. I've never been good, as such. Aren't dogs supposed to be loyal, though?_

_Its unfair, though, you know. That everytime I turn into Padfoot, the dog's only instinct is to look for Moony. Did I spoil that too for all of you?  
_

Sirius doesn't understand, he isn't just good, James thinks, almost angrily - he's better than good. He's - 

James doesn't have words. What he does know is, James can't really live without him. Without knowing that he's fine. Without knowing that Sirius always has his back. 

And James always has his. Always. 

James flips another page, glaring at the journal. 

______

"It was you," someone says, from right behind Regulus, just as he apparates from Hogwarts. He jumps, trying to even out his breathing, and remember any loose ends he might have left - _where had he been careless, what did he mess up -_

Its Barty.

Regulus relaxes, but just a little. Atleast, its not Bella.

"It was you, wasn't it?" Barty asks, again, face blank as he crosses over, stepping very close to Regulus. "You warned the Potters. The Dark Lord just came back from Godric's Hollow. He's - " Barty swallows, slightly, " - angry. They weren't there."

Regulus looks at him like he's an idiot, even though his heart's racing, mind's racing.

"Are you _really_ accusing me of - " he begins, with what he's sure is a disdainful, casual look, rolling his eyes slightly. Barty seems unmoved, still staring at Regulus's. Regulus's mental shields feel like thick, brick walls right now - _he's not prepared for this, there's only one door in the room, Barty's blocking it, Regulus's wand is in his pocket -_

"I didn't accuse you of anything," Barty says, quietly. "I asked. There were six of us in the room when Pettigrew came to the Dark Lord. Bella and Rodolphus would never do it, Rookwood and Lucius have no reason to. And I didn't do it. So, its obvious that - " 

"Pettigrew could have easily gotten cold feet," Regulus replies, evenly. "You can't trust double-crossers, anyway. Maybe, he - "

"He's a coward," Barty says, unflinching. "He wouldn't be able to do that, even if he wanted to. And I _saw_ you, Regulus, I saw you leaving the room right after. All of us were still together in the Manor. You, though - you were missing. _Quite conspicuously."_

Regulus wonders who all Barty's told of this. He wonders if he has even a chance to make a run for this. Its possible that there are death eaters waiting outside already. He's fairly sure he can take Barty in a duel - but Bella? - what if the Dark Lord knows, too - he really hadn't thought much about when he left the room, he always did. He never stays back, anyway, for anything unless Voldemort is there. _Stop spiraling, he's looking at you -_

"I always leave after the meetings, Barty," Regulus says, but it doesn't sound as firm to his own ears. "The Dark Lord expects research from me, and I do that in all the spare time I have. I really don’t think - "

"You don't understand, do you?!" Barty says, seemingly losing his cool. Regulus tries to inch to his wand. Barty follows the movement with his eyes. "I - you don't - the Dark Lord knows who all were there when Pettigrew came! You may have strong mind shields, Regulus, but they _won't_ stand against the Dark Lord's _Legilimency._ And I don’t - "

He breaks off, like he's run out of steam and Regulus stares at him, at a loss for words. _Is he saying what Regulus thinks he's saying -_

Barty takes a deep breath and glances back at the closed door once.

"Rookwood thought that Pettigrew did it," he says, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. "He tracked him down to Conway Street, its in muggle London - but he couldn't get him. Blew half the street up, too, Pettigrew did - to escape. I think he's just realised that no side is practically _his_ anymore. He's probably trying to live the war out in a sewer as a rat, or something. But Rookwood's injured, and he's lost his Ministry job, obviously, because of the whole incident - it _already_ looks bad for Pettigrew."

Barty looks at him expectantly, eyebrows raised. Regulus feels like smiling abruptly, everytime Barty raises his eyebrows, the fringes of his light, straw-colored hair rise along with them.

"If you find him yourself, then," Barty nods, when Regulus realises what he's saying, eyes widening, brows furrowing - because why is Barty - 

"I can - " Regulus doesn't say it. He doesn't need to. Pettigrew betrayed the Potters. He probably deserves what's coming, too. "Why - what - Barty, why are you - I thought you - " 

"You're such an idiot sometimes, Regulus," Barty snaps, scowling. "I can't believe you still don't - " 

He sighs, if you can sigh in an angry way. Barty manages it pretty well. 

"And you're just going to - what - " Regulus says, hardly believing his luck. It doesn't seem like a trick, though. "You're just going to - " 

"Do we _have_ a choice right now?" Barty asks, clicking his tongue. "Find Pettigrew. The Dark Lord's going to summon us soon, I'm sure of it." 

And he turns and walks out of the door, as Regulus yells a stammered _"Thank you!"_ behind him. Barty flips him his middle finger without turning back.

Regulus wonders why he's so red-faced, and how he knows for sure that it has nothing to do with anger. Or fear. Or anything that doesn't involve Barty -

______

In one world, Peter Pettigrew's end begins in a shack, facing two men who used to be his brothers. He dies in a dungeon, choking and miserable - after he's lived for years as a cowardly rat, a _slave_ \- stewing in guilt, self-hatred, revenge, to some extent. He loses an arm and the meagre dignity he has left -

In this world, Peter Pettigrew's end begins in a little muggle street called Conway, his end begins when he feels that spark on his tail - his end begins when Regulus Black passes him a grimly satisfied smile and points his wand at him.

His end begins when the spell isn't something he expected, but a complex piece of magic that -

"I didn't me - mean to, my Lord, I swear," Peter says, because that's what he thinks. "I didn't - I didn't mean to - but they _were my friends_ , and I couldn't - they used to be my family - "

_"Crucio!"_ Bellatrix yells, suddenly, apparently unable to stand this. Voldemort passes her a warning glance, as Peter screams.

"They were your friends, _Wormtail?"_ Voldemort says, his voice soft, silky, mocking. "After you betrayed your _family_ , after you gave your allegiance to _me_ , you think a last minute warning to the Potters, who fled like hunted animals - you think that will _redeem_ you somehow in their eyes? Is that it? Didn't you join me because you believed in my cause? In _our_ cause?"

Regulus watches silently, blankly as the death eaters make varied noises of disgust aimed towards Pettigrew.

"I - I do, my Lord," Peter says, half-sobbing. "I just couldn't - I - they were my friends, and I - " 

" - betrayed them, and then betrayed me, too?" Voldemort finishes. "You sent them a message, just after you told me their location, yes?" 

"Ye - yes, my Lord," Peter says, shaking all over. "I sent an - owl. I didn't - " 

"What was your point, Peter?" Voldemort asks, finally. "What did you aim to do? I am seeing so much indecision, so much _cowardice_ , weren't you a Gryffindor, Peter?"

There are snorts from around the room.

Peter nods shakily, "I didn't - mean to - " 

_"Pathetic,"_ Voldemort spits out, making Peter flinch away in fear.

Regulus wonders if Voldemort would ever realise that he _shouldn't_ have taught any of his followers, even his closest, inner circle members how to plant false memories in people's heads.

When the green light hits Peter Pettigrew, Regulus looks at Barty - and for a second, he's sure Barty looks more relieved than he feels himself. He notices Regulus looking and rolls his eyes, before turning back to Voldemort. Regulus wonders why Barty looks so - _endearing_ \- when he does mundane, unbecoming things like rolling his eyes.

"Regulus," Voldemort says, after most of the death eaters are gone. "Where exactly did you _find_ the rat?"

"A gutter in muggle London, my Lord," Regulus says, flippantly, sneering slightly to show his disgust. It works. Voldemort raises an amused eyebrow. "Rookwood tracked him down to a street, but he couldn't capture him. I just used a tracking spell from the same street. He didn't even put up a struggle. Just _confessed_ to all his crimes."

There's a short pause, where Regulus waits with bated breath, even though he knows he's gotten away with it -

"You did well, Regulus," Voldemort says, before dismissing him.

Regulus smiles.

When Regulus sits down on the dinner table with the death eaters that evening, its next to Barty. Who refuses to pass him the food and Regulus has to _Accio_ it all.

Regulus really doesn't mind, even as Barty narrows his eyes at him and glares almost the whole meal. Barty's sort of _pretty_.

______


	4. men fight wars, women win them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > _nothing truly ends poetically  
>  it ends and we make poetry  
> when the truth is that  
> all that blood was never beautiful  
> it was just red  
> we do not speak of her rage, you see  
> we talk about her silk dresses  
> and her flower crowns  
> we don't talk about how  
> when she smiled in all her fury  
> even death trembled before her_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here you go, chapter 4
> 
> i think y'all will like it

_________

"Fifteen galleons, Mrs. _Potter,"_ a voice comes from behind Lily, who jerks her head up - startled - from where she was sitting on the Astronomy Tower, legs dangling over the edge. " _Fifteen_ full galleons. I leave you alone for a few years, and you ruin your _whole_ life."

Lily blinks, an incredulous laugh bursting out of her as she looks back, disbelieving still -

"Cough up, Evans," Sirius Black says, the same shit-eating grin on his face, hands in his robe pockets, leaning on one of the pillars. " _Told_ you you'd fall for him eventually."

"Black!" Lily exclaims, swinging her leg up from the railings, and running up to him. She still can't believe her eyes. But he's definitely here, taller and leaner than before - his hair even shorter than James's - eyes gleaming, that same look that spells _hundred percent trouble,_ beaming smile on his face. "I can't - _god_ , you're _such_ an idiot - "

And then, they're hugging, Lily's arms wrapped around his neck, and she's smiling, and laughing and possibly, even _crying_ \- because while they hadn't ever been very close, they _were_ friends - and his absence had been like a hollow. 

An empty space where a bed should be, an empty seat next to her where a _'hooligan with absolutely no Divination talent at all, Mr Black, its horrifying'_ \- should be sitting, an empty chair in the Great Hall next to James and in front of her. 

It had been her sitting alone on this very same tower, instead of her _with Sirius_ , teaching him how to smoke a perfect ring, in exchange of him teaching her how to whistle - 

_( - "Then when you finally fall for Prongs, you can whistle at him," Sirius said, lighting a joint and handing it to her._

_"Black, shut up," she said, inhaling deep._

_"Shirt up? James would like that, too," he said, and Lily blew smoke all over his face, grinning as he coughed. - )_

It had been James and Lily and Remus and Peter sitting in Hogsmeade, and being asked by a jovial Rosmerta about their _delinquent friend_ , it had been James crying on Sirius's birthday. It had been a forced cheery smile when James announced who his Best Man would be - _"Remus, of course!"_ \- and a muttered _"Sirius, you should be here,"_ that Lily heard, right after her water broke and James ran to get Bathilda from next door, sending a message to Mungo's with frantic waving of his wand.

It had been Lily shopping for books, and remembering Sirius, like she did every year - because that's where she had seen him for the first time, even though Sirius probably hadn't seen her. It had been Lily seeing Remus looking lost all the time and thinking back to when she realised back in fourth year that Sirius probably fancied Remus. Or something of the sort.

_( - Lily had been fuming, Viola Fawley was an absolute bint and she did not deserve Remus. At all. Moreover, Remus was practically giving her a pity date and as such, she had no rights at all to intrude on their weekly studying sessions, acting like Lily was the one intruding. Remus was winced and passed her an apologetic smile, pained expression on his face as Viola leaned in towards him, simpering smile on her face._

_" - Listen, Vanessa - " she heard now, the annoyed voice of one Sirius Black as she crossed the library._

_"Its Viola!" she said, scowling. Sirius paid her no attention._

_"Right," he said, like he knew that already. He probably did. He was good at winding people up like that. "So, the thing is, I need to ask Remus about something really important and for that, he needs to come to the dormitory, right now. So, if you will, please, Victoria - "_

_"Its fucking Viola!" she said, glaring. Which looked quite scary what with her thick eyeliner. Sirius leaned back a little, before giving her another indifferent glance._

_"Alright, fucking Viola, look here - "_

_Lily suppressed a snort._

_Later in the common room, as she sat with Remus, she sighed as Sirius rehashed the argument all over again._

_"Padfoot, you just need to accept the fact that Vi's my girlfriend and - " Remus said, in his professor-voice. He used that a lot with Sirius, Lily had noticed. Remus was being very strange though. Lily was sure he didn't even like Viola. Especially not as - his girlfriend._

_"Vi," Sirius muttered, resentfully which Remus ignored._

_" - move on to the next step," Remus said, clearly talking about acquaintance-ship._

_"Murder?" Sirius suggested instead, looking quite hopeful - and Lily laughed, head bent over her essay. - )_

It had been Lily feeling sort of detached when nobody high-fived her hand as she raised it to answer a question, it had been - dull. Dim. Quiet. Sirius Black carried colors with him, he carried noise. He carried a whole set of shenanigans, and he carried half of James's heart - and Lily had felt all of that. 

She glared at him as he ruffled her hair. 

"Ah, there's the Evans I know and love," he said, looking at her glaring. "I wondered if maybe - "

She smacked him on the head and he stopped speaking.

"What the _fuck_ , Black!" she said, suddenly realising how angry she was at him. He looked at her with a _guess I deserve this_ expression. "You could have sent one letter! Just a single letter, or visited once or maybe even a _'Hey, I'm still alive'_ \- "

He winced slightly.

" - but _no!"_ she continued, her voice rising. "What we get is a _fucking_ patronus after five _fucking years_ \- warning us about a fucking _psychopathic murderer_ with a plan to invade our home - "

Sirius looked away, sighing.

"Do you know _how_ long James has been looking for you?" Lily asked, her voice cracking in the middle. Sirius's gaze snapped back to hers, as if he was - _surprised_ by that. "Do you know how many times people have told him to stop thinking about you? Because surely, if you were alive, you would have come back by now? Do you even know _how_ many people James has argued with, saying you were _alright?"_

Sirius looked stricken, like he hadn't expected that. 

"Do you know how he's even _been_ the last five years?!" Lily asked, staring at him as he paled, eyes wide open. "He's been - we've been - we got our wedding printed in the _fucking Prophet,_ you know? - and Harry’s christening, you know, _your best mate's son_ , his birth? _Without even his godfather there?!"_

Sirius swallowed, face crumpling a little. "Do you know how _I've_ been, Red?" he whispered, unsteadily. "It isn't very easy getting _expelled,_ you know. That too, on account of attempted murder. It isn't very easy having someone who you thought of as your _only family_ to look at you and tell you that you're not his brother anymore."

Lily inhaled shakily. _She knew that, but -_

"I tried writing so many times," he said, sighing as he sat down on the balcony, swinging his feet over. She sat down next to him, squeezing his hand comfortingly. The gesture seemed to calm him down a bit. "I just - couldn't. I wasn't sure if James would want to hear from me and - "

"You couldn't have actually thought that," Lily says, a note of pleading in her voice. "He _loves_ you. _So much."_

"It didn't seem like it that at the time," Sirius said, shrugging with one shoulder. "I was - miserable. And angry. And so, _so_ scared. I had nowhere to go, I couldn't possibly go back home. Walburga would have killed me. And James didn't - "

He stopped, looking away from her to the rolling green scenery ahead.

"I had nobody, for a while there," Sirius said, and Lily didn't protest even though she _knew_ it wasn't right. But it certainly must have felt like that. "No money, no place, I just. I didn't want to come back the way I left. I wanted to - _be_ someone better, someone independent. I didn't want James to reject me if I came back. And if he did, I wanted to be ready for that, too. I wanted to - "

Lily gave him a glance, understanding filled in her eyes. 

" - to figure it out," he ended, barely a whisper. 

They stayed like that, sitting next to each other on the balcony, legs hanging off the edge, talking when they wanted to, in comfortable silence the other times.

It was almost nightfall when Sirius nudged her with his shoulder. 

"Did James really want me to be - ?" Sirius asked, hesitantly, avoiding her eyes. "Did he really name me - "

"Godfather?" Lily guessed, smiling slightly. "Yes. Of course."

There was a pause.

"What a _fucking_ bastard," Sirius said, releasing a strangled sob - and Lily hugged him as he cried silently on her shoulder.

_"Harry,"_ Sirius said, reverently, slowly, like he was testing the word. _"Harry James Potter_. I'll be the _best_ godfather I can be, okay? I'll - I'll buy him the best broomsticks and the best Zonko's and I'll tell him _all_ about - "

"I know you will," Lily whispered, her eyes wet too, with that mixture of tears which were both happy and sad and just, so, _so_ overwhelming.

________

In one world, the day the Dark Lord disappeared, Bellatrix Lestrange, her husband, her husband's brother and Barty Crouch hunted down Frank and Alice Longbottom. 

In one world, Alice and Frank, both grieving the loss of James and Lily Potter more than celebrating the win of the Wizarding World - were ambushed and tortured to insanity by the three of them, while one looked on - horrified and angry and confused and _terrified._ In one world, Barty Crouch wouldn't raise a wand at the Longbottoms but instead, wonder whether Regulus had died a better death.

Alice and Frank would leave behind a little boy with a woman who loved her bright, courageous son too much to care about her quiet, timid grandson that Alice had left in her care for just that day.

Its not that world.

In this world, a world where James and Lily Potter escaped, a world where The Dark Lord didn't disappear - but was just thwarted again, Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband would still hunt down the Longbottoms.

In this world, Alice and Frank Longbottom, both Aurors - wouldn't be caught unaware. They would be _ready._

_______

"You’re getting better, Black," Alice Longbottom says, as she spins around to dodge the red light coming her way. Bellatrix laughs, a cruel glint in her eye 

"It's Lestrange now, Fortescue!" Bellatrix says, glancing at Rodolphus duelling Frank Longbottom next to them. 

"Oh, is it?" Alice says, and there's barely a second before Bellatrix realizes what Alice has done, locking her into almost a cubicle of spells, of blinding, flashing lights which burn. They're both standing close now, barely two feet away. "Well then, you _are_ quite good, _Lestrange - "_

Alice twirls her wrist and flicks her wand to the left. Bellatrix's wand goes flying out of her hand, zooming into Alice's own, who catches it, and presses her own wand into Bellatrix's neck. Her eyes are wide, and Alice wonders if she's imagining a spark of fear in there, as she lowers her wand and paralyses Bellatrix, using a concentrated Body-Bind on her lower half. Only her mouth can move now, she thinks, as Bellatrix glares at her. Her neck, maybe.

" - but, just _not_ good enough," Alice finishes, huffing out a breath as Frank stuns Rodolphus next to her, panting heavily. He passes her a weak smile. "And its _Longbottom_ , now."

Bellatrix looks at the smoking tip of her wand, as Frank comes hobbling over, limping slightly on his left leg. Rodolphus is tied up in the other corner of the room.

"I have a son sleeping in the next room, you know," Alice says, evenly, and Frank winces slightly. "How did you get through the wards?" 

Bellatrix smirks slowly, her torso frozen. "Wouldn't _you_ like to know?" 

Alice can almost feel Frank rolling his eyes next to her. "That's _why_ she asked, you inbred - " 

" _How_ did you get inside the wards, Lestrange?" Alice asks, again, firmly, louder now - the wand pressed on Bellatrix's neck shooting sparks. Bellatrix doesn't even flinch. "I'll ask _one_ more time, and you _will_ respond, or I swear to fucking Merlin, I _will_ kill you."

Frank doesn't say anything, but she feels his gaze from the corner of her eye. She ignores it.

Bellatrix just raises her eyebrows, like she doesn't believe Alice really would. The Order doesn't kill, as a general rule. As Dumbledore's rule. Her skittering glance gives her apprehension away, though.

Alice thinks of Neville. 

Alice thinks of Frank.

Alice thinks of Augusta. Then she stops thinking about Augusta. Nobody needs to worry for a woman like her. _She's_ the one who people should fear.

Alice thinks of the little muggle girl who was found tortured and dead near Tinsworth.

Alice thinks of Caradoc Dearborn.

Alice thinks of the entire building in Vega Avenue, filled with a hundred muggles, that was burnt down last week.

Alice thinks of Edgar Bones.

Alice thinks of Dumbledore, who preaches one thing and does another.

Alice thinks of the way Bellatrix had laughed when she flung around Unforgivables in a house with her one-year old son.

_Alice thinks of Neville._

And Frank Longbottom watches, numb, as Alice Longbottom, points her wand straight at Bellatrix Lestrange's heart and says, evenly, firmly, _"Avada Kedavra."_

Neville cries in the next room, but Alice doesn't regret it even as Rodolphus Lestrange stares disbelievingly, horrified - at the cooling body of his wife.

_________

Sometime, that evening, after Moody has taken Rodolphus Lestrange away in handcuffs, and safety wards, accepting Frank's short explanation of _"Bellatrix's curse rebounded on her"_ with a wry expression and an eyebrow raise to show them that he isn't exactly fooled, after an exhausting evening where Neville wouldn't stop crying and Frank wouldn't stop bleeding from his leg -

Dumbledore comes to visit them.

Alice is in half a mind to very pleasantly tell him to _fuck off_ if he wants to discuss Bellatrix Lestrange's death - but he barely asks about it. He's looking quite on edge, she realises, and Dumbledore never looks _anything but calm._

Right now, he looks almost _nervous_. She doesn't think that bodes well for any of them.

Alice rocks Neville back and forth as Dumbledore talks. 

And explains, tightly, how Voldemort has marked a personal target on their backs.

" - according to a _Prophecy_ , issued in the early month of 1980," Dumbledore is saying, gravely, and Alice interrupts him. 

"1980?" she asks, not quite believing him yet. Not wanting to believe him. "Then, why are you telling us this, _now?"_

"You see, Alice," Dumbledore says, sounding regretful. "When Voldemort was first told the prophecy, he was well aware of the only _two boys_ it could refer to, both born at the end of July."

"Two?" Frank asks.

"Yes, my dear boy, two," Dumbledore says, heavily. "Lord Voldemort is - _very_ ironically - a half-blood - "

Frank makes a strangled noise as Alice grits her teeth. _The Hypocrisy, Merlin._

"And as such, he chose not your Neville, for he's a Pureblood," Dumbledore continues. "But the boy with a Muggleborn mother. He marked a Half-Blood, like himself, as his _equal._ But now - " 

"Muggleborn mother?" Alice whispers, a sudden sinking feeling in her stomach. 

"Yes," Dumbledore agrees. "Harry Potter, born to James and Lily Potter, a day after your son was born."

Alice exhales loudly. "I haven't heard from Lily in so long - " 

"At my instruction," Dumbledore explains. "Lily and James went into hiding almost a year ago. But you see, they trusted the wrong man. The secret keeper, who was entrusted with the location of their home using the _Fidelius Charm_ , turned out to be a spy for Voldemort - "

"Are they - " Alice gasps, _she would have heard if something happened, right -_

"They're alive," Dumbledore says, smiling slightly. "And at Hogwarts, currently, due to a _very_ surprising turn of events. I daresay you'll hear of the shocking news soon. In the meantime, however, I'm deviating - the prophecy referred to a boy born to parents who have thrice defied Voldemort."

Alice furrows her brows, not understanding what he was getting at, as Frank hisses in realisation.

"Yes," Dumbledore says. " _Thrice_ defied. But James and Lily Potter - they have now defied Voldemort _a total of four times."_

"You mean to say that...?" Alice asks, swallowing.

Dumbledore looks at the chubby, little boy in her lap and says, regret etched in his words, "Neville Longbottom _is_ the only boy who the prophecy can possibly speak of, now."

_______

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here, i personally think voldemort would go after the longbottoms, because yes, james and lily did defy him thrice before harry was born but its four now, so voldemort would turn to neville
> 
> i think
> 
> let's just roll with it, alright
> 
> ps - to those who wanted a bella redemption arc, can we all just agree, we love her for how evil she is? honestly, she could never be really reformed at this point, tho i have a bella redemption story in - doesn't it feel like I'm all alone (like a secret that nobody knows), and i really, really like that about her?


	5. you've heard my story, now let's hear yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > _
>> 
>> "the stars will burn you," he said because she had  
>  the kind of beauty that makes you scream  
>  the kind of secrets that you want to keep  
>  the kind of words that struck like lightning  
>  and the kind of love that let the wild in, "let's see if gravity even cares," she replied
>> 
>> _

_________

Narcissa Black Malfoy woke up to a curse. Narcissa Black Malfoy woke up to a scream and the cries of her baby - Narcissa Black Malfoy woke up to a _funeral_.

She watched as Rabastan Lestrange spoke for Bellatrix Lestrange, she watched as Lucius spoke, she watched as she _herself_ spoke. She watched as their mother spoke, she watched as their father spoke. Numb. Not understanding, when this became -

She watched as the Dark Lord spoke - he spoke about revenge, about all of Bellatrix _Lestrange's_ noble ideals and about her resourcefulness as his most loyal, about her ferocity, about her willingness to give everything to battle. He talked about how Bellatrix Lestrange was destined for greatness, how she died too soon - 

He talked about what Bellatrix Lestrange _died for._

When the question that _really_ mattered was, Narcissa thought idly, as she looked into Draco's wide, innocent eyes, 'What had Bellatrix _Black_ died for?'

When they reached the Manor, she sat by Draco's crib, singing a soft tune - something that her mother used to sing for her till she was five, and then - _Bella_. 

But that wasn't exactly right, was it? No - no, it wasn't - it had never been Bella who sang for her, no - 

She had just told herself that when she and Bella had stood next to their mother, and watched Aunt Walburga burn off the little circle that had marked the place of - 

She had told herself that. She had systematically removed _her_ from every single one of her good memories, told herself that blood traitors who run away with mudbloods can't be like -

It wasn’t ever Bella who sang for her. _It was_ \- no, she couldn't say it yet.

Things were changing. Narcissa looked at Draco again, brushing his hair away from his eyes. He looked so much like Lucius, sometimes. But other times, he would grasp her finger and look at her with that look that said _why do you look so sad?_ \- and Narcissa couldn't find his father in it.

She smiled at him, and he smiled back slowly, before giggling at her - _will she have to speak about Draco Malfoy's cause too?_

She tried ignoring the thought, how completely pointless, and paranoid - that could _never_ happen. 

_Didn't you think the same about Bella?_

"Narcissa?" 

She looked up to see Lucius standing at the door, looking slightly uncomfortable. _Oh_. He was going to be talking about - 

"Are you well?" he asked, then, clenched his jaw, shutting his eyes. "As well as can be?"

Narcissa nodded, picking up Draco and giving him an encouraging smile. 

Lucius smiled back. 

He really was quite handsome, Narcissa thought. _Draco would grow up beautiful._

He took Draco from her hands, gently scooping the blanket around him. 

_For a man who rarely carried his son, he certainly knew how to hold him very well._

"Da!" Draco said, excitedly. Narcissa didn't know exactly what it was that made Draco love his father so much, but then again, they do say _absence makes the heart grow fonder_. Lucius was nothing if not usually absent.

"Draco," Lucius said, his voice soft. 

"Lucius, about Bella," Narcissa began, because she still didn't understand. "I - how did she - do you know who - _killed_ \- "

She didn't know she even felt anything until her voice broke.

"We don't know yet," Lucius said, his voice hard. Draco stopped gurgling, as if to hear his words. Lucius usually had that effect on him. "The Order sent the body, like some - "

He seemed to reign in his temper, taking a deep breath.

" - Rabastan said that Rodolphus was with Bella, wherever it is that they went," he continued, in a solemn tone which looked quite funny coupled along with the fact that he was sticking his tongue out at Draco. "And he isn't back. The Dark Lord believes that he's been captured. He's hardly one to give away information, even under pressure, but its - worrying. Bella was the Dark Lord's second. His _best_. If the Order could so easily - "

He didn't have to say anything more. Narcissa understood.

"Lucius," she said, after she was sure her voice wouldn't waver. "Was Bella - " 

"No," Lucius said, immediately understanding. "Quick death. One killing curse."

Narcissa nodded like it was normal to talk about death like that. It still relieved her a little, though.

"Draco will _never_ fight in the war," Narcissa said, abruptly, suddenly, firmly. Lucius looked at her with an unreadable expression. "My son will _not_ die in front of me. Do you understand that?"

"The Dark Lord's cause is a noble one, Narcissa," Lucius said, lips pursed as he put Draco back in his crib. "By the time Draco is grown up, we would have won, and the world would be clean of - "

"People like my sister?" Narcissa said, quietly, a thrumming rage under her skin. "What's the difference, Lucius - why are we giving our whole lives - our _home_ for - "

"Your sister is dead, Narcissa," Lucius said, jaw tight. "And she's the only - "

"That's not true, though," Narcissa said, evenly. This had to be said. She had to stop being so blind. So servile. "You _know_ that's not true. The only sister I had, is _still_ alive."

Lucius was looking distinctly uneasy. He didn't interrupt.

"You think if we just stop ourselves from thinking it, the problem goes _away?_ You think - do you _really_ think the Dark Lord will win this war? And then what, when you serve at his feet?" Narcissa said, lowly, standing up. "If he does win, Draco will - he'll forever be a - a - _slave._ And if we lose, what kind of life are we leaving my son to?"

"He's my Heir as well, Narcissa," Lucius said, which just served more fuel to her anger.

" _Heir!_ Your heir, is he?" Narcissa said, louder than before and Lucius sent a silencing charm up with his wand, looking resigned. "He is your _son,_ first! You try to act like Abraxas, but you're still not him, Lucius! - "

Lucius inhaled sharply, sneering - but didn't stop her.

"You've seen the way the Dark Lord is," Narcissa continued, laughing humorlessly in her rage. "He's - he's merciless. He kills people so easily, so quickly, it's _frightening_ to hold my son in his presence. Is all this _worth_ his cause? I keep telling myself that _Andy_ \- "

She'd said her name. No going back, now.

"That Andy was always like that," Narcissa said, shaking. "That Andromeda was always a traitor to the family, that Andromeda was always _heartless_ enough to abandon us. But, but - that's not true, Lucius - she _never_ abandoned us. _We abandoned her."_

Lucius's eyes were wide, out of anger or shock, she couldn't tell.

"I've always supported you," she finished, quietly. " _Always._ Never asked questions, never done anything less than trusting you. But you're blind, Lucius. I won't allow my son to grow up like this. Not here. Not in a world like the one you're fighting to make."

"Narcissa, _think_ about what you're saying, please," Lucius said, swallowing. "We can't do anything about this now, we _can't_ just - "

"When I first met you," Narcissa interrupted. "I liked how clever you were. I liked how you always seemed to know what you were doing. I liked how I felt _safe_ with you. But, now," she took a deep breath, "Lucius - _don't_ you see it, yet? You _are_ the only one that the Dark Lord has now. He uses our home, he uses our funds. He uses your Ministerial Position, he uses _you._ You're a _Slytherin,_ Lucius. There's _nothing_ to be gained here anymore. Let it _go,_ while you still can."

"Let it go?" Lucius echoed, shaking his head. "I help the Dark Lord because I am _loyal_ to - "

"Are you a fucking _Hufflepuff?"_ Narcissa snapped, and Draco started crying. She tickled him under his chin softly, till his cries quietened.

Lucius blinked slowly. Then, blinked again. He opened and closed his mouth. Narcissa took the opportunity to speak.

"Loyalty isn't a one-sided street," she said, ignoring Lucius bristling. "He hasn't ever given you anything back. He had Bella and Rodolphus, and they're gone. Who does he have aside from you and illiterate followers with low Ministry jobs? You have _tea with the Minister_ every Sunday, for Salazar's sake. You don't _need_ to be loyal to him."

"Narcissa, you don't think I haven't considered what's best for - " he started, his voice a little hushed now, still looking offended.

"No," Narcissa said, flatly. "I don't think you've seriously considered it. You're just afraid. The Dark Lord may have immense magical power, but he's still one man. You have connections he doesn't know about, homes in _every_ country. If nothing else, we could _hide_. You know his secrets, his safehouses, his plans. If you had really considered it, the war would have _ended by now."_

"This war isn't pointless, like you so easily assume. We're fighting for a better world, a world with those who really _deserve_ magic, a world where wizards don't have to hide behind a Statute - "

"You are fighting for Pureblood supremacy," Narcissa cut in, starting to laugh again at his naivety. "Which we don't need. I've heard rumors about the Dark Lord's _own_ heritage, but leaving that aside, there are so many ways to go about these ideals. The Dark Lord's ways are - _extreme,_ to say the least. Do you really believe in a world like that? A world where half its people are tortured for just - _existing?"_

"You can't honestly be arguing with me about the superiority of purebloods - " Lucius began, and Narcissa interrupted him, a strangled laugh leaving her lips.

"You mean those purebloods who _killed your brother?"_ she whispered, looking him in the eye. She saw the flash of hurt crossing through them, before the shock.

"How do you - " he breathed out, his face a mask of shock, anger, humiliation. _Fear._

"You think I don't know why you know how to hold Draco so well?" she asked, breathing deeply. "Why you know how to play with him in a way that he loves, in a way that I never knew, because I was the youngest amongst my sisters? You think I didn't guess why all the stories about your childhood start from the time you were _nine?"_

Lucius's jaw was trembling, as he clenched his wand, and turned around, walking out of the room, as if unable to bear it anymore - leaving her standing there, white in her rage, tears in her eyes.

"Tell me, Lucius," she called, mockingly, manically - as he reached the door, a last parting shot. He stopped, but didn't turn around to look at her. " _Tell me!_ What was the name of your _little squib brother?"_

There was a long silence, as he stood there, back rigid, shoulders tense, still not turning around.

_"Corvus,"_ she heard him say before he left, barely even a whisper.

_______

Rabastan Lestrange hated goblins. 

No, really, he _hated_ the ugly, little creatures, and so far - their attitude wasn't helping his mental state at all. Bella was dead - which he would never admit of course, but it gave him a little amount of relief, she scared the fuck out of him - but his brother was missing. Rodolphus was -

He better be alive.

"I really don’t see _why_ , you miserable little creature!" he said, loudly, irritably looking at the goblin glaring at him. "Bellatrix was married to _my_ brother - "

"And she was a Black," the goblin said nastily, nodding contemptuously. "She was only a Lestrange by marriage, and as such, you can only visit your brother's vault, not his wife's."

"Its a Lestrange Vault!" he yelled, really losing his temper. They'd been going over this for the last ten minutes. "She married into my family, so obviously, her vault _is_ the family's vault - "

"Not quite," the goblin interrupted again, so calmly that Rabastan wanted to kill him. "It was never a Lestrange Vault, I'm afraid. It was Miss Bellatrix's Vault, a vault made in the name of Bellatrix _Black_. To make it a Lestrange Vault, you would have to transfer ownership and change its credentials."

"So, do it, then!" he said, huffing angrily. "My brother's wife is dead. Transfer the contents of the vault to the Lestrange Vault and transfer its ownership to my brother's name."

"I'm afraid," the goblin began, smiling again - and Rabastan gritted his teeth, frustrated. What was so special in Bellatrix's vault that the Dark Lord had told him to go _so urgently?_ He wanted to look for his brother, kill the people who had captured him, not find a _stupid golden cup in a vault_ that apparently never even belonged to the Lestranges' - 

"I'm afraid, Mr. Lestrange, you're a little late," the goblin continued, condescendingly and Rabastan looked at him, confused. "You see, the ownership can be transferred only _by the owners_. And after Miss Bellatrix's death, the vault was rightfully claimed by a new owner. The Head of House Black, actually."

_The Head of House - ?_

"Regulus?" Rabastan asked, bewildered. Did the Dark Lord know of this? Regulus couldn't have done it without an order. "But why would Regulus claim - how would he even know about Bella's death - ?"

The goblin smiled wider - for some reason, looking quite smug. Irritatingly so.

"Again, not quite, Mr. Lestrange," the creature said, folding his fingers on the desk. "The vault was not claimed by Regulus Black, but by the _real Head_ of House Black."

Rabastan had a bad feeling about this already.

"The vault in question," the goblin said, and he was quite openly smirking now. "Was claimed a mere hour after the death of Miss Bellatrix Lestrange. The vault was claimed by _Lord Sirius Black."_

________


	6. he was who he was, because i was who i was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > _
>> 
>> do you remember me?  
>  from balconies and last benches  
>  from climbing trees and flooded rooms  
>  i spoke too loud  
>  and you spoke too fast  
>  i can't remember what we talked about anymore  
>  all i know is that we sung songs and danced dances  
>  we made magic together  
>  do you remember me?  
>  i wanted to say that i remember you
>> 
>> _

________

It was almost eight at night when Sirius Black saw James Potter - after five years, eight months and eleven days. 

_"Missed me?"_ James whispered, face completely blank. He was clutching Sirius's journal in one hand, because _of course, he was_ \- the bastard didn't know how to not pry into everybody's business. 

Sirius wanted to curl up and die. Go back to the Astronomy Tower he'd just come from - with Lily, and jump. Because James must have read his journal. _Obviously_. It was just the sort of thing Sirius would expect from him.

"Not at all," he lied, just as flatly, eying James with narrowed eyes, pointedly glaring at the offending article in his hand. James shamelessly ignored him, which again, was just what Sirius expected. "Did you?"

"You wish, Black," James replied, a slow smile stretching on his face. 

"I certainly do," Sirius said, softly and then, they were both suddenly on the floor. 

Sirius could feel hundreds of eyes watching them - could hear Lily and Alex running from the Hallway, could hear kids who'd stayed back for the holidays whispering - could hear Filch and Mcgonagall yelling at everybody to go about their business. What he could also hear, however was -

James and him were grappling on the floor, not sure exactly what they were doing - wrestling, punching, hitting, _head-butting_ \- James might have kissed Sirius on the forehead once - they were both rolling around, and Sirius had to concede he wasn't as surprised by this turn of events as he should have been - _"Do you fucking know how much I love you?!"_ \- and then they were hitting each other again - _"Of course I do, but you told me you didn't!"_ \- Sirius could hear Peeves now, jeering and encouraging them to fight - _"I was fucking sixteen, I didn't know what I was saying!"_ -

"James, stop it!" 

That was Evans. James ignored her. He seemed to have become even better at it than Sirius remembered.

_"I was sixteen too, you speccy git!"_ \- and then, James was laughing and Sirius was laughing too - they were both crying, James was kissing Sirius again, both cheeks, forehead - and then, they were smacking each other again - _"One fucking owl, Sirius, one fucking letter!"_ \- Sirius's shoulder was hurting now - _"You didn't try to talk to me either!"_ \- James paused for a second, looking at him incredulously then rolled over hard, pinning Sirius down - _"Didn't try to - are you fucking mental?! I looked for you forever, I sent a million letters!"_ \- Sirius looked at him disbelievingly, now and glaring, flipped him over - _"The fucking mirrors, you asshole, I packed mine specifically so that if you ever wanted to talk, we could!"_ \- James stopped struggling for a moment, gaping at him, before he scowled, wrestling him to the ground and sitting over his chest - _"You didn't pack your mirror, you prat, you packed mine! Yours was at Grimmauld, remember? I thought you'd taken mine too along with you, because you didn't want to talk to me - !"_ \- 

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, you're not twelve anymore! You're grown men, and I expect you to behave as such - "

Ah, Old Minnie. Well, they had quite a professional talent in disregarding _her_ warnings. 

And about the mirrors - well. Sirius was nothing if not unlucky.

"I thought you went home at first," James said, panting heavily as he stared at Sirius. His eyes were red and wet, his hair a complete mess. More so than usual, that is. Sirius's journal was lying on the floor next to them. "I - I - tried everything I could think of. Then Alphard came out with the _Missing_ adverts in the _Prophet_. I even went to Grimmauld once - "

"You did _what?!"_ Sirius asked, bewildered. Touched. James glared at him.

"Of course I did," James said, angrily. "What if Walburga had been hiding you in there?"

Sirius could admit that was totally possible.

"She could have killed you - " he began, and James gave a derisive laugh. 

"Oh, _yes_ ," James said, looking quite manic, what with his hair and laughter. " _I_ could have died. _Atleast, they would have found my fucking body!"_

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Sirius said, snorting. "Walburga is nothing if not deviously slippery."

There was absolute silence for a moment. Sirius could almost feel the rage emanating from Lily behind them.

James let out a sudden laugh, tipping his head back, squeezing his eyes shut before looking at Sirius with a rueful grin, eyes shining - and Sirius couldn't help but laugh. "You still sound like a dog," James said, and Sirius laughed louder.

"And your hair _still_ look like you shagged someone in the middle of a storm," Sirius said, grinning at James and at Lily shaking her head behind James's back. 

James's grin widened, " _This_ time, atleast that's a possibility."

"Its really not," Lily said, grimacing and Sirius snorted, getting up on his feet and offering James his hand.

"Come on, Jamie, up and at 'em," he said, and James grasped his hand, taking the support to stand up, his smile softening. 

James pulled him into a hug - and Sirius shut his eyes, ruffling James's hair, _finally feeling like he was -_

_Home_. He was _home._

"Detention for fighting in the school hallway, Black, Potter," an amused voice said from the back, and Sirius could feel James smirking.

"Knew Minnie couldn't resist meeting us in private," Sirius whispered, to James's shoulder.

James laughed softly, before pulling away and looking at Sirius, as if scanning his face, trying to remember the differences. Sirius knew he was doing that, because he was doing the same. "You've got a new scar," James said, pointing to his eyebrow. "How'd you get it?"

"Found myself another werewolf," Sirius said, grinning and James looked at him as if he didn't know whether to believe him or not. 

"Knew I'd finally get taller than you," James said, with a satisfied smile as they started walking to where Lily was standing, arms crossed. Sirius hit his shoulder, smirking when he winced in pain, "Even I knew that, you lanky git."

________

"Regulus," Lucius said, taking a deep breath. The boy in question turned to him with an enquiring eyebrow. They were alone in the Manor Hall, Lucius was sure of that, he controlled the Wards, after all - and Regulus Black had just been about to disapparate, after a long meeting, which the Dark Lord had mostly spent flinging around _Cruciatus Curses_ in Rabastan's general direction. 

Apparently, Narcissa's estranged cousin was back. _Sirius Black was alive - and back_. And he had claimed ownership to his Title. Bellatrix's Vault was lost. _Permanently._

Lucius had glanced at Regulus Black's face across the table - completely blank. Too blank. The Dark Lord might have believed the stoicism, but Lucius understood that brothers didn't work like that. Especially not Regulus Black, who winced aloud everytime a Death Eater kicked a House-Elf. _Something was clearly wrong_. 

Then, it had gotten even _more_ intriguing.

The Dark Lord had ordered Lucius aside after the meeting, and asked him about a - _diary_. _The_ Diary. Lucius wasn't foolish, he had sensed the Dark Magic that the diary reeked of, the moment the Dark Lord had handed it to him the previous year. He, however, hadn't thought that it was somehow connected to whatever the Dark Lord had entrusted to Bellatrix's care - hadn't realised that it was the end to a _means,_ of some kind.

In the end, he had talked about _Spies._ Traitors. It had included a lot of not-so-subtle threats.

Lucius suspected quite a lot of people, but he was hardly one to start accusing anyone, what with his own current thoughts. _No going back,_ now. His thoughts were slowly rearranging themselves.

_Bellatrix's Vault contained something._

_Something important to the Dark Lord._

_Sirius Black had wanted the Vault so badly that he was ready to announce that he was alive, wanted it so badly that it outweighed the advantage of keeping the Dark Lord ignorant of his existence. Black had considerable wealth of his own. It couldn't have been money he was after._

"Yes, Lucius?" Regulus asked, his tone bordering on polite. "Something you need?"

_Sirius Black had always been against the Dark Lord._

_Regulus had been present when Pettigrew betrayed the Potters._

_Regulus had been the one to capture Pettigrew. He had always been accomplished in the Mind-Arts._

_Regulus had known his brother was back already, there had been nothing but put-on shock on his face._

Which had to mean,

_The Black Brothers were working together._

_If the Blacks wanted whatever it was that the Dark Lord gave to Bella, then they would obviously also want -_

_The Dark Lord's Diary was in Lucius's study, under six protective charms._

Last chance to turn back.

Lucius thought of Corvus. Draco. _Narcissa._

"You could say that," he replied, slightly cryptic - and Regulus's eyes narrowed calculatingly.

__________

"Padfoot, stop flirting with my wife," James is saying, mock-glaring at Sirius. "Flirt with me, instead."

_"James!"_

Sirius is sitting on the Gryffindor Table for Dinner. Its - _overwhelming,_ to say the least. His same place, the same seat he'd always taken, Evans in front of him, James next to him, and Rem -

The seat on his left is empty. 

So is the seat next to James, where Peter would usually sit. The less said about that, the better, because Lily did _not_ feel kindly about the whole thing. Sirius had to almost concentrate if he wanted to remember Peter's face. 

Remus's face flashed before his eyes everytime he blinked.

Sirius knew Frederick was supposed to be back today, with Remus. Sirius wasn't particularly worried, he was quite reliable, and extraordinarily skilled with a wand. 

But it was - a little scary. Before he'd met James, he'd talked with Lily, who'd assured him, over and over that James had forgiven him, that James had been looking for him. She hadn't said anything much about Remus. 

"Where do you reckon Dumbledore's been all this time we've been here?" James asks, passing Sirius roast chicken without being asked, like he still remembered what Sirius liked. 

"Don’t know," Sirius says, shrugging, glancing up at the empty spot. He had wondered as much himself. It had been almost a full day, since James and Lily had come. Sirius wasn't even sure if he was technically allowed at Hogwarts.

There is a sudden, deafening, creaking noise, and the doors of the Great Hall bang open. For several reasons, Sirius's heart starts racing - _Moony_ is going to be here - it had to be them, it couldn't be anyone else -

Frederick Wood grins impishly from the door, his curly, chocolate-brown hair instantly recognizable even from the distance. The kids on the tables break into whispers.

"Honey," Frederick calls, in a sing-song voice, and Sirius raises his eyebrows, grinning and tilting his head back to see him clearly. "I'm back!"

"Freddy, darling!" Sirius yells back, cupping his hands around his mouth and James snorts next to him. "Hello!"

"And I got you a present, _sweetheart,"_ he says, his eyes dancing mischievously - and right from behind him, smiling grudgingly walked out -

Sirius might have squeaked.

"Moony!" James says, hand raised in greeting. 

"Hello, Prongs," Remus - _it was really Remus in front of him! Here!_ \- says, exchanging a smile with Lily as he walks to the table, nodding up once at Mcgonagall. 

And then he comes, and stands right in front of Sirius. Right. In. Front. Of. Sirius.

Sirius should have atleast been given a warning about how much Remus has - _grown._ Into himself. 

He's taller, much taller than Sirius, even taller than James, leaner, his hair slightly longer. His eyes are glittering at the moment, though, Sirius isn't sure if they ever didn't. There's an old scar streaking across his face - _which Sirius recognises instantly_ , and thinks how fitting it is that everytime he would look at Moony, he would remember his mistakes. 

His jumper is a shade of olive-green, still the same loose wool cable-knit jumper - a flannel shirt collar peeking out from under it. He's - _beautiful._

"I feel like hexing your face off," Remus says, promptly, and Sirius can't help but fall in love all over again. It had never amounted to anything much five years ago. But Sirius had certainly come to terms with his feelings since then. "Actually - no - that wouldn't be satisfying enough. I feel like punching your stupid face."

_Stupid face?_

"I understand that its a common urge around here," he says, standing up and facing Remus - sending James a look, who's valiantly avoiding his eyes. 

"I wonder why," Remus says, and throws his arms around Sirius, pulling him closer - embracing him like he had _missed_ him, embracing him like it _meant_ something - and Sirius squeezes back, hard. Its funny, Sirius thinks, as he instantly recognizes Remus's smell, or maybe that's just Padfoot’s instincts. _Chocolate. Winters. Fire._ And, of course -

"I can't believe you just came back from a _werewolf_ camp, and you _still_ smell like a _library,"_ Sirius says, grinning against Remus's neck. "Like old books and quills and - "

"And I can’t believe you still smell like wet dog," Remus says, and Sirius laughs. "And leather. Do you still have that jacket?"

"'Course, I do," Sirius says, not wanting to pull away yet. 

"By the way, Sirius, if you ever pull something like this again," Remus whispers lowly, in his ears, hugging him hard enough to almost strangle. "I swear I will - I'll - "

"Message received," Sirius says, breathlessly, hissing as Remus glares and leaves his shoulder that he was painfully-not-by-accident squeezing too tight. "I - I'm - and I know its too late to be saying this, and _definitely_ not the right place, but I - I'm sorry, I'm so, _so_ sorry for - "

"I know," Remus says, swallowing and hugging him again, like he can't help it. Sirius wouldn't deny that it's a really nice thought. "Its okay. It _always_ was. I'm - I'm glad you're okay. And alive. And Frederick told me a little about Durmstrang, _god_ , Sirius, I can't believe you - "

"And I can't believe how good you look," Sirius blurts out, and flushes. But its alright, _because Remus flushes too,_ biting his lip to hold back a smile.

Sirius sees Frederick and James exchange wierdly knowing glances. 

________


	7. there's still time to change the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > _
>> 
>> don't you find it funny  
>  how we're all overthinking emotions  
>  and analyzing words  
>  don't you find it odd  
>  that i didn't just say what i felt about you  
>  don't you find it amusing  
>  that we're all pretending to be normal  
>  when we could be insanely interesting instead - \- when we could simply be fools in love
>> 
>> _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i sorta like this one

__________

"Do you want to - " James begins, at the same time as Sirius, who says, "Can I meet - "

"Yes," Lily agrees, understanding. "You _are_ going to meet Harry, now."

"I'll come along, too," Remus says, setting his cutlery on the Dinner plate, and getting up. "Its been a while since I spoke to Harry."

"Spoke to?" Sirius asks, amused. Remus nods quite solemnly, and Sirius once again, envies his ability to keep a straight face all the time. "He's a decent conversationalist. Certainly better than James."

"I really _worry,_ sometimes," Lily says, as they walk up the corridor. "We're still _so_ young to be parents, and there's a war going on - "

"Nothing's going to happen to Harry, Lils," James says and Sirius nods, still thinking about Harry - strangely panicked about the fact whether a one-year old baby would like him. _Was worrying about this normal?_

"I know," Lily says, quickly, passing James a quick smile. They look so much like their fifteen year old selves, that these affectionate looks between them still seem fake to Sirius. "Its just that - I wish I could send Harry somewhere. You know, someplace where the war isn't affecting the people so much, somebody who could just take care of him, for a while - "

"How about - " James asks, before stopping, and grimacing. "Nevermind. That's a stupid idea."

Lily looks at him knowingly.

"Petunia?" she asks wryly, which makes no sense to Sirius, and James nods. "I thought of Petunia too, at first, my sister," she adds, for Sirius's benefit, who nods, still confused. He didn't know Evans had a sister. "But - she - well. She _hates_ me. And I wouldn't want her to take that grudge out on Harry - its just. There's really nobody we can even rely on to - "

"How about Ol' Bathilda?" James asks, grimacing like he already knows what Lily would say. "She knows Harry."

"She _knows_ the whole History of Britain as well," Lily says, and Remus snorts. "Nothing special there. Besides, James, she can barely keep track of all her books and her cats. And we just escaped from there. What if Voldemort has people waiting there, for us? Or charms put up in Godric's Hollow?"

They're almost near James and Lily's room. Sirius can almost count the number of ways this could go wrong - because, _damn_ , this feels like a _huge_ moment.

"Why does your sister hate you, Lily?" Sirius asks, idly, his thoughts straying to tiny dark-haired babies.

"Because she's a little _bitch,"_ Lily replies, just as they enter the room and James laughs. 

Sirius doesn't, because he's staring at the white crib. 

Because standing in it, fat fists gripping the edge, has to be the _chubbiest,_ cutest, most smile- _y baby, ever_ \- and Sirius suddenly feels like running away from him, because what if he hurt this fragile, little thing in his fluffy blue onesie - 

"Li' bich!" Harry James Potter repeats, giggling, his tiny milk teeth showing - and Sirius simply _melts_ right there.

" _Harry!"_ Lily gasps, with wide eyes and an admonishing tone, as James laughs and says in the same tone, but jokingly, " _Lily!"_

"He is so - " Sirius can't finish, he has to pick him up. And steal him away, possibly. He needs this little fluffy thing in his life. 

"Ma-ma! Da!"

Sirius walks to the crib and puts both his hands on the bars, crouching so he's eye-level with Harry, who stares back with wide, green eyes. _They're so bright._ "Hey, bud," Sirius says, softly, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I'm Sirius."

"Ha-wwy," he says back, importantly and Sirius can't help but be completely charmed. _He's so smart_. Sirius is sure Regulus never knew how to say his name till he was atleast two. Or three. _Harry_ is certainly an easier name than _Regulus,_ though.

"I'm your godfather, you know," he continues, and spreads his arms a little. Harry obliges immediately, smiling and reaching out to him and its a wonder Sirius doesn't cry. He holds Harry up, sliding his legs to a side, and shifting him to his left. Harry giggles as Sirius winks at him and makes a cross-eyed face. Harry’s mop of black hair, look _so_ much like James's.

He looks back to see James smiling proudly. Sirius wonders if this is the moment that it hits. That James is a _father_. James, his best mate, his brother - is a Dad. He might act the same, but he's made this - he's made this tiny ball of fluff and brilliance and sunshine that smiles and makes Sirius smile -

_Sirius is the actual Godfather to an actual baby._

_And he looks like a baby angel._

"Siri," James says, coming closer and ruffling Harry’s hair. "Say it, Harry. Siri."

"Li' bich!" Harry says, immediately and James throws his head back and laughs delightedly. "Atta boy," he says, and Lily glares at them both.

"You can call me Padfoot," Sirius says, smiling at him. "Padfoot. Come on, Harry. Pad-foot."

"Pa!" Harry says, clearly recognizing that.

"Yeah, that's it," Sirius says. "Pad-foot."

"Pa-fu!" he manages, after two more go's and it feels like the greatest victory _ever._

Sirius refuses to let go of Harry for almost two hours till Lily ultimately tells him that Harry needs to go to sleep. Harry is - Sirius can't describe it. He's like a miniature James, and everytime he giggles, every high-pitched sound makes Sirius _so_ happy - 

Its indescribable. _Harry is twenty pounds of pure perfection._

Sirius ruffles his hair and tickles him on the belly, even as Harry talks to his Moo- _oy_ , both of them seeming to understand the strange sounds and syllables they use. Remus looks so warm and cuddly and - _homely,_ its almost physically painful to not touch him. 

"I'm going to spoil you _rotten,"_ Sirius whispers in Harry’s ears, as he gives him a last, tight hug. Harry keeps gripping his hair and his nose. Its _adorable._

"Li' bich," Harry says, soberly and Sirius nods, _exactly so_. "That's right."

_________

"Mr. Wood?" 

Frederick groans and flips over on his pillow.

"Mr. Wood? Mr. Verlac!"

Frederick can hear Alex getting up from his bed, his sheets rustling. 

"Mr. Verlac!"

"Ah, fuck," Alex mutters right before he swings open the door of the guest room where they'd slept the night. Standing right in the middle of it, fist raised as if to knock again, is a little boy - first, second year, by the looks of him, freckled and pale - with red hair, a sheepish smile and wide eyes. "Yes?"

The boy jumps slightly, before squeaking out a, "Uh, Mr. Black wants you to get up? Well, he didn't say it like that, but that's what he meant. He sent me to get you."

Frederick laughs, as he gets up and the boy seems to become more comfortable, "Do you remember the way to the Great Hall?"

Frederick and Alex exchange glances, before Alex grimaces and says, "Just wait for us, please."

The boy nods and then starts to go out, before Frederick stops him. He hasn't ever talked to a Hogwarts kid before. Aside from Sirius, that is. "Hey, wait, what's your name?"

"Bill Weasley, sir," he says, smiling in a way that he probably means to be innocent, but it just looks impish.

"Oh, the Weasleys," Alex says, and Bill instantly narrows his eyes, jutting out his chin like he's _daring_ Alex to speak something bad. It's kind of commendable, the pride. "I've heard about your family. Their bloodline's rumoured to have traces of _Succubus_ Blood," Alex adds, to Frederick, and Bill just looks at him, bewildered. He probably doesn't know what it means.

"How many siblings do you have, Bill?" Alex asks, curiously and Bill raises an eyebrow, before saying warily, "Er - five brothers? But my mum's pregnant again. I'm the eldest."

" _Succubus_ blood," Alex agrees, impressed. Bill passes him a suspicious glance.

They tidy up in ten minutes or so, and then walk down to the Great Hall together, asking Bill questions the entire way, who seems happy enough to entertain them. Sirius and Regulus are both there on the red and gold table, Regulus scowling and pushing his food away, and Sirius grinning and trying to shove food in his mouth. James and Lily aren't there. Neither is Remus. Its probably quite early.

" - I am _not_ going to have food from this stupid table, Sirius, so help me - "

"Good morning, sunshine," Frederick greets and Sirius looks up, eyes bright. Frederick hasn't ever seen him this happy before. He's realising that they all thought Sirius was a cheerful, happy sort, but they had never actually _seen_ him happy before. Sirius taps his cheek as if he wants a kiss. Frederick obliges, winking at Regulus, who's shaking his head.

"Morning, dear," Sirius says. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," Alex says, taking a seat. "Why're you up so early? Nobody except the kids are here yet."

"Yes, well, we've got ourselves a little _appointment_ ," Sirius says, smirking. "Didn't want to wake James and the others up. So, we thought we'd tell _you_ both instead." 

"Glad we could be of help," Alex says, sarcastically. "Where're you going? 

"Hog's Head," Sirius replies, briskly, finishing up his toast in quick bites. "Its an inn in Hogsmeade. The day's free for you two, though. How about you roam around Hogsmeade with all the others? Look around a little, maybe. Train if you want to. Just ask James to show you the places."

Frederick shrugs.

________

"Well, Black, you really _are_ alive," Lucius says, eyes on the rickety square table across which he's sitting in the dingy room at Hog's Head, quite early in the morning. The Blacks had deemed that a good, quiet time - where they couldn't possibly be overheard, because there was nobody here. Lucius was realising that was correct. "I _did_ wonder."

"I'm flattered you _wonder_ about me," Sirius replies, smiling in a way that can also be interpreted as _baring his teeth_. "And, its Lord Black to _you."_

Lucius sneers slightly like he has no intention of ever using that phrase, and turns to Regulus, who's sitting on the side, slouching and watching with a lazy smile. "I don't see why _your brother_ needs to be here, Regulus."

"Now you just sound like Mother," Sirius says, dryly and Regulus snorts. 

"Hasn't anyone ever taught you _not_ to speak ill of the dead?" Lucius hisses, and Sirius jerks upright, mouth opening in shock.

"Mother is _dead?!"_ Sirius asks Regulus who just stares at him incredulously.

"I can't believe I'm associating with people like _you,"_ Lucius mutters, groaning.

"You didn't _know?"_ Regulus asks, blinking and shaking his head. "But - I - you're the Head now! _Of course_ , Mother's dead. How else would you be Head? How did that _not_ come up when you went to Gringotts? And it was in the _Prophet_ like two years ago!"

"The goblins didn't mention anything like that, and I didn't see that in the _Prophet,_ either," Sirius says, and Lucius wonders if this is always how easy it is for the Blacks to accept that their parents are dead. "I thought Blacks followed a _Patriarchal_ System! I never asked, and _nobody_ ever told me."

There's a long, awkward pause, as they both glare at each other and Lucius regrets being born.

"Why didn't _you_ tell me?" Sirius demands and Regulus jumps up from his chair, gesturing wildly. "Tell you? I assumed you _knew!_ Besides, what would I have _even_ said to you?!"

" _'Ding, dong, the Wicked Witch is dead?'"_ Sirius suggests, sarcastically, and Lucius has finally had enough.

" _This_ seems like a family matter to me," Lucius says, addressing Sirius who sits back in his seat, scowling. "Can we discuss what we came here for?"

"Regulus hasn't told me that _either,_ actually," Sirius says, shooting his brother a poisonous glance.

Lucius takes a deep breath, and tries to control the twitch his left eye has developed. 

"I've come with an offer," Lucius starts, and Sirius rolls his eyes.

"I decline," he says, like its instinctive. _Bloody Gryffindors._

"You haven’t even heard it, yet," Lucius says, and sends Regulus a pointed glance. Regulus remains as unhelpful as ever.

"If it’s coming from you, I don't need to," Sirius says, and Lucius sighs.

"Hear him out, Sirius," Regulus says, finally, and Sirius passes him a long-suffering look. 

Lucius sighs, again.

"I tested him under Veritaserum, by the way," Regulus adds, flippantly, like the interrogation was casual. _It really wasn't._ But Sirius concedes, gesturing for Lucius to start.

Lucius explains. _Three things,_ he tells himself. Three.

Sirius seems almost grudgingly impressed.

________

"So, what's the catch, now?" Sirius asks, finally, exhaling. "You're offering a lot. You haven’t said what you want in exchange yet."

Lucius allows himself a small smile. _Gotcha._

"Three things, in exchange for the _three_ I give you," Lucius says, lightly, and Regulus and Sirius exchange a long look. Sirius nods. Lucius continues, "First, Neutrality."

Regulus raises an eyebrow, "We're listening."

"I don't want this to go to Dumbledore _yet_ , but I'm sure you have more accomplices," Lucius says, and none of them argue on the fact or the particular word. _Interesting_. "I want none of them to ever try to maim or injure me, unless its for a pretence. In self-defense, that is. And when this war ends, I want my family to be acquitted, maybe even awarded, because we _helped_ you."

"Done," Regulus says, inclining his head. "What else?"

"Protection," Lucius says, clearly. "I'm giving you use to a safe-house, but if my betrayal is ever found, there's a possibility that the Dark Lord will find it. I want you to place protection there. Security, you see, atleast two skilled wizards. Or witches. But ones who can protect my family."

"You think I'll send my godson to a safe-house _you_ own with _your_ wife and son, without protection?" Sirius asks, snorting. "Done."

"It had to be said," Lucius says, pursing his lips. "And third," he smirks, and Sirius immediately looks suspicious, "You will tell me what you're doing with these objects you've been collecting. You'll tell me what that _Diary is_."

"No," Regulus says, firmly. "That information is not negotiable."

"Neither is the Diary, then," Lucius says, easily.

"Why're you still sitting here, then?" Sirius asks, raising his eyebrows. "There's no deal without it."

They stare at each other.

Lucius waits. "I'll take an Unbreakable Vow of Silence," he adds.

There's a long pause. Lucius starts to smile, sure he's won this - 

"We'll set the terms of the Vow," Sirius says, reluctantly, and Lucius nods, with gritted teeth.

_________

Its a simple coincidence that Frederick sees her.

Its not even so clear, its actually through the window, but yet.

She's tall, and curvy, and blonde, her hair falling down in _perfect_ curls. Frederick can almost see her green eyes from here. She looks slightly older, but that's hardly ever an issue, balancing a tray of large beer glasses. He glances at Alex, who's looking at Frederick, amused smile on his face, as they stand in the middle of the path in Hogsmeade. Charming little village, by the way.

"To that pub we go?" Alex asks, rhetorically, and Frederick nods, still looking at her, slight smile on his face.

"To _that_ pub we go," Frederick agrees, nodding.

They sit in the _Three Broomsticks_ for quite a long time, and after all his subtle efforts to dig for information about a husband or a boyfriend, after all the butterbeer and iced soda and cheery syrup and pumpkin spice that they drink - Frederick gets a tiny blush, quite a flirtatious smile and a, "You can call me Rosmerta, handsome."

_Britain is brillant_ , he decides.

__________

Lucius nods in acknowledgment, as he leaves the Inn, apparating right away. Regulus and Sirius look at each other. 

"Three blind mice," Regulus suddenly says, flatly. Sirius looks at him, confused, wondering if he misheard something. "I beg your pardon?"

"Three blind mice," he repeats, still quite flat. _Maybe he's lost his mind,_ Sirius thinks, bewildered. _What was in that pumpkin juice?_

"See how they run," he says, and there's no rhythm and there's no _reason_ , either.

"See how they run," he echoes, hollow - and Sirius realises, _Oh. The fabled Black Insanity has caught up to him._

"Regulus," Sirius says, gently, ignoring Regulus caroling gloomily next to him. "What are you doing?"

" - cut off their tails, with a carving knife!" he says, and then stares at Sirius, smiling dryly.

Sirius waits.

"You said you wanted me to tell you about Mother's death with a _Muggle nursery rhyme_ ," Regulus says, which is no explanation at all. "Well, there you go."

"...did Mother die of rat poison?" Sirius asks, and Regulus sends him another unimpressed look.

"No," Regulus says, rolling his eyes. "She died of _heartbreak._ "

Sirius can't help but snort. "Our Mother didn't _have_ a heart. Wait, so why does that Muggle rhyme tell me about Mother's death?"

"It doesn't," Regulus says, shrugging flippantly. "What it does tell you - is that Pettigrew's dead."

_"What?!"_ Sirius asks, eyes wide.

"I framed him," Regulus says, unrepentantly, and disapparates.

_Maybe, Lily and Regulus could be friends,_ he thinks.

__________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a dialogue here that sirius says in the oop, but it fit perfectly so i used it


	8. maybe i was a siren calling you to your death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > _
>> 
>> i don't want to die in a poem  
>  the words burning in eulogy  
>  the sun howling, 'why'  
>  the moon sighing, 'why not'  
>  or in bed, which is a poem gone wrong -  
>  but  
>  i don't want to die in your arms either  
>  let the end come as the best parts of living have come  
>  unsought and undeserved
>> 
>> _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this chapter in record time  
> seventeen minutes of furious typing y'all

_________

In one world, Andromeda Black Tonks, disowned and proudly so, would spend the war in a little cottage in the countryside, with her muggleborn husband and half-blood daughter - and she'll be happy, but there will be times when she'll have to tell herself that that's _all_ she can do. There will be times when she'll have to choose between her little family and her ideals - 

And she'll choose her family. She'll never be on the frontlines. She’ll always just be Andromeda Tonks. Neutral. Can help if really need it, thank you very much.

When she walks on the street, people will shoot her fearful glances and part to make way for her, and she'll try not to remember why they do that. 

She'll try not to remember her elder sister, who she resembled uncannily when they were both little girls - who she again, grew up to still resemble, but who wasn't her sister anymore, all because of -

When she'll hear about the death of her husband on an old radio, she'll cry. Alone, in her little house, she'll cry. 

When Harry will come to her house, again, with dirt and grime and regret and apology etched on his face - when he'll tell her that her sister killed her daughter, she'll imagine her laughing the way she always used to, but this time - she'll be doing it after she saw the light leave Dora's eyes - _"You laugh like a banshee, Bella!"_ \- she'll remember that same shade of pink hair everyday and wonder - _"You'll pay for that, you little brat!"_ \- she'll wonder -

If there's anything else she could have done. 

She'll see Dora in the coffin, those pink hair still brighter than most people's - and she'll see her grey eyes, identical to Andromeda's own - _grey eyes!_ \- and she'll wonder if this was Nymphadora's way of saying something to her. She used to hate grey eyes - _"So dull, so oppressive, mum!"_ \- but she died with grey eyes. 

Her daughter will leave behind a tiny boy with blue hair, and Andromeda will live for him, laugh for him - and everytime he'll wake up with pink hair, she'll smile a smile that's a tad bit sad. Harry would visit Teddy everyday without fail, and soon he'll start bringing along a pale, blonde boy with cheekbones like her sister's. Not long after, an owl will come - and she'll talk to the woman who she still loved, even after so many years of - 

And she'll wonder once again, what would have changed if she'd reconciled with her sister sooner, what would have happened if - if -

Its not that world. 

In this world, Andromeda Black Tonks, still young, with a nine year old daughter - will wake up to a knock on her door, and her eyes will widen as she hears Nymphadora open the door - _danger, danger, no, don't open it, you have so many enemies -_

" - your Aunt, sweetheart, is your Mother there?"

" - Actually, _lady_ , no offense, but I don't have any Aunts - "

" - if you could just call Andromeda here, once - "

"Nymphadora, move away," Andromeda says, quietly, firmly, her wand between her fingers, eyes intent on the figure outside. There doesn't seem to be anyone with her. That could be misleading. It probably is. "I've told you a hundred times _not_ to open the door without me there." 

"Sorry, mum," she replies, not sounding very sorry. 

"Go to your room," she says, and moves to stand in the centre of the door, not stepping past the Wards. She stares at her sister, who stares back.

Unsurprisingly, Narcissa Malfoy hasn't changed much. She was never one for _change,_ really. Same blonde hair, with a thin dark streak, tied up, same pale blue-grey eyes. Still thinner and taller than Andromeda, bones more jutting, still the same plain robes, stitched with expensive fabric.

"Well, I'll bite," Andromeda says, raising her eyebrows and taking care to use as much _mundane_ vocabulary as she can. "Slumming it, are you, _Cissy?"_

There's a long pause.

"I need your help, Andromeda," Narcissa says, clearly, face determined in a way Andromeda has never seen before. 

Andromeda scans her face for sincerity. She has certainly _never_ heard those words come from her mouth, before.

"Does Lucius know you're here?" Andromeda asks, finally, cautiously - wondering if she's on to the right track.

A slight smile twitches on Narcissa's face.

" _Voldemort_ doesn't," she replies, her eyes burning with something fierce. _Pride,_ Andromeda realises. _Love._

She steps out of the House Wards.

___________

"I have to go, Sirius," Regulus says suddenly, in a hushed, annoyed voice - and Sirius looks at him, panicked. They'd been planning this since so long. "My - " 

Sirius glances down at his Mark, writhing and black and twisting and scowls. 

"Think this'll take long?" Sirius asks, grimacing. "We had planned this. Fourth one, _today."_

_A Locket. A Cup. A Diary._

_And a Ring._

Sirius thought back to Vogler's words, that summer night, waves crashing on the shore - the raspy, hoarse whisper, _"Immortality, you see"_ \- thought back to the dull, grey prison walls - the chilly wind - thought back to those _cat-like, bright blue eyes_ \- thought back to the iron wrought sign that said in bold, silver letters - _Nurmengard -_

No. They had to get the fourth one today. 

Regulus hissed once more, glaring at his wrist, as he clutched it - 

"I'm relying on you, Sirius," he said, scowling viciously - and disapparated. _"Get the fucking ring."_

Well. That happened, Sirius thought, his mind racing - he couldn't very well go alone, he remembered the cave - the green lake - who knew what curses Voldemort would have put in place here - but then again, who did he have _but_ Regulus -

That wasn't exactly true. That wasn't strictly true, anymore. He did have people, didn't he, he had people who would have his back, _always -_

_Yes._ He did. 

_________

"James," Sirius said, taking a deep breath. "Remus. Lily, _boy,_ have I got a story for you all."

"I'm in," James replied, immediately.

________

Remus Lupin was having quite a pleasant day. Well, he _was_ standing in the Hometown of Voldemort's parents, and about to enter an old, dirty, run-down shack, probably laced with Dark Magic and Curses to retrieve a tiny ring that was again, laced with Dark Magic of the worst sort, and he could possibly die here.

But, Sirius was holding his hand. It wasn't such a bad day to die, and they weren't bad people to die with. 

"Lily, by the way," Sirius said, his face grim, eyebrows pinched together in concentration as he looked at the shack. "I have to talk to you and James. About Harry." 

"What about Harry?" Lily asked, eyebrow raised, questioningly. 

"I think I have a safe place for him to stay till the war ends," Sirius says, and lights his wand up, entering the shack with slow steps. 

They follow.

_______

It probably says something about Sirius, the fact that he's extraordinarily talented with Dark Magic, the fact that he can identify and unravel curses so complex that they could bring Hogwarts down, the fact that there are virtually no enchantments, no security measures in place to protect the Horcrux - and _yet._ And yet, when they find the ring - a large, _ugly_ ring - gaudy, black and gold - its not Sirius who finds it.

Its _James._

Sirius should have expected this. He's the one who's the best at snooping around. What Sirius should also have done, was warn the three more vigorously about the dark, sentient magic trapped in Horcruxes. Because, James finds the ring, yells, _"Hey, Sirius, its here!"_ \- and then, simply, easily, _naturally -_

_Touches it._

Sirius sees his finger stretching towards it, a glazed kind of look in his eyes, sees his finger graze it, _just_ slightly - which is quite enough - hears himself scream, hears Lily shout a warning, sees Remus swing his head around from where he was searching.

James screams, too, and _thankfully -_ doesn't wear the ring, but drops it, instead, hissing, his face paling, his nail beds turning black - the black curse spreading to his fingers, like _ink spilling._

No. _No._ Sirius refuses to watch this, to see James -

Sirius has _read_ about this curse before, he's sure of it, it needs to be channeled out or it spreads like one of those curses that strengthen with time - it needs to be _ripped_ out, like rotten roots are, from the core - or it needs to be controlled, immediately, or there's no halting it. 

James only touched a tiny part, surely it _can_ be taken out, of course it can. But - but - Sirius doesn't know how to -

"Lily, _don't_ touch him!" Sirius yells, belatedly, his feet moving of their own accord. "James - you idiot - " 

"What curse _is_ this?!" Lily gasps, horrified as she looks at his blackened finger tips - James is backing away from them all, which might be a wise choice, looking at a loss for words, staring at his fingers. "I've never read about this before - is this an invention of Voldemort himself - ?"

_Invention._

_New curses._

And _Oh. Of course,_ it comes to him instantly - probably the only person that Sirius knows apart from Regulus or Vogler who's more skilled at the Dark Arts than Sirius himself, and might help them too -

Sirius casts a strong shielding spell concentrated on his own arm and fingers, and an impervious charm that he's sure would hold against indirect contact with the curse, and turns to Lily and Remus, "Belby Manor, Brockenhurst. Leave the ring. I'll come back for it," and with that, he hooks his arm lightly on James's elbow and disapparates.

_________

Severus Snape is _right_ in the middle of doing _it -_ of finally completing what Damocles has been working on for so many years, probably just about to create something historic -

Naturally, Black pops up out of nowhere to disturb and ruin all his plans, bringing in tow with him - _Potter._

_Of course._

Severus startles horribly, as he feels the screech of the Manor Wards being pierced, drops the vial he had in his hand, which - again, naturally - starts smoking, a rotten smell coming from it, and spins around, wand in his hand, and points it straight at -

Well. The rumors were true, then. Severus should have known. Black would obviously not be content with a death anything less than fire and glory. Dying like an unknown, one amongst the masses.

"I would ask just _what_ you think you're doing, but I have a feeling that _no_ explanation of yours could actually - " Severus begins, sneering and resisting the urge to pretend that he doesn't know them, and curse them. Probably scream _'Stranger Danger!'_ while he's at it.

"Snape, I wouldn't have come here if I wasn't desperate," Black says, breathlessly and makes Potter, who's looking slightly confunded, on the futon chair kept at the back. "He's been cursed. By something really dark - "

"So, of course, you just apparated here," Snape surmises, his lip curling, even as he takes in Potter's fingers, and moves, sighing and keeping down his work, sending several detection spells and a strong stasis charm. "Thanks for the _glowing_ recommendation. I suppose anything vaguely dark reminds you of - "

"Ah, Snape, can we do this later?" Black says, panicked anxiety audible in his voice, and Snape realises how worried he is, how less he's showing. Its _intriguing,_ Black hiding his emotions. "I've read about this before somewhere, but I wasn't sure how to - "

Severus's eyes widen, as he realises what the curse is, holding Potter's arm up in the light, wand touching his nails.

" _What_ have you been meddling in now, Black?" Severus asks, shaking his head. "This is - this - "

"Yes," Black nods, avoiding his eyes. "Can you remove it?"

"Whatever it was that he touched," Severus says, carefully examining the black, withering fingertips. "He just touched it, right? Barely a graze, barely a - "

"He didn't wear it," Black says, which is - weird, because Severus hadn't expected something to wear. 

Severus looks at Black's face, hopeful, desperate.

"I can do it," Severus says, and the mutt almost collapses with relief, and then jumps up and - and - and he -

_Hugs_ Severus. Who's so utterly, _absolutely_ shocked, he can't even pull away. 

There are two loud _cracks._

It is _obviously,_ just Severus's luck, that he sees Lily Evans after almost two whole years - and when he does, he's being smothered forcefully into a hug by _Sirius Black._

Still, the way Lupin's mouth falls open, shocked and affronted and _bewildered_ is extremely gratifying.

________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ten points to whoever can guess how sirius first got to know about the horcruxes, hint's there in the chapter


	9. your heart and my heart are very old friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > _
>> 
>> i am not the only traveler  
>  who has not repaid his debt  
>  i've been searching for a trail to follow again  
>  take me back to the night we met
>> 
>> _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was listening to take me back to the night we met while i was writing the chapter, and i kinda realized how well it fits the chapter so there u go

_________

The first time the grey-eyed _grim_ came, Gellert Grindelwald _smiled._ Does Albus think him a fool? Gellert has performed experiments in this field that nobody can even imagine - has studied _Animagi Magic_ so thoroughly - 

_The Grim,_ he thinks as the huge, black dog eyes him - with silver-grey eyes, too sharp, too curious. _A spectral or demonic entity, a ghostly omen of death. British Folklore is quite interesting,_ Gellert would know. 

But then again - _death._ Albus's sense of humor has definitely not improved.

"I do not fear death," Gellert whispers, raspy and rough - nothing like the smooth, charismatic, _honeyed_ words of his youth - and the dog startles like it heard him, like it _understood_ him. It makes his smile widen into something more feral - more dangerous. "Out of the two of us, _that_ was never me."

The grim slinks closer to the bars of the cell, and Gellert exhales. _It can't be Albus, then_. Albus would have reacted more to the bait. Besides, he couldn't be a dog animagus anyway. Albus has never been one for something as mundane, as _mortal_ as - loyalty. 

Albus breaks and builds when he sees fit. 

It _can_ be one of his little light puppets, though - eyes as sharp as that don't belong to animalistic omens.

"What's your name, boy?" Gellert says, reaching out a hand to touch the dog. It flinches back. It's _definitely_ one of Albus's men. "Oh, don't be like that. Everything you hear isn't always true."

The dog makes a scoffing noise. Gellert wonders why it's come here, or why Albus sent it. If he did, that is. It doesn't make any sense. Albus would _never_ want any of his followers to know of his past, of the darkness in his bones that he denies.

Well. Gellert has never let Albus play his little games _alone._

"Legends say that you come to those who're not expecting you, those unwary of death," Grindelwald says, smiling, and the grim looks at him suspiciously. "But I've known death was coming for several years now. That is the difference between me and your new _little Dark Lord,_ isn't it? He _pretends_ that he is not mortal."

The dog flops down on the ground, the expression on his face reminding Gellert of when he used to sit down with Bathilda - _"Tell me a story!"_ \- and Bathilda would smile indulgently - _"You've read them all, Gellert"_ \- _"Yes, but I haven't seen them!"_ \- because when Bathilda spoke, Gellert didn't just hear her words, he saw it _unfold_ in Bathilda's eyes -

Albus was - he had everything he had dreamed of in a friend, in a _partner_ \- effortlessly charming, _extraordinarily_ sharp, clever and quick and witty, Gellert thought, wondering why he was suddenly remembering all this. Someone he could start a revolution with, someone he could start a new life with, after his old one had been destroyed, his family disgraced.

The dog made a whimpering sound and Gellert smiled.

"I used to call him the _boy from Godric's Hollow,"_ Gellert says, because that _is_ where every story begins. 

Not when he had to leave Durmstrang, not when he first touched the wisps of the black-purple smoke that left his mother's cooling body in their wake. Not when he first touched his wand, not when he slit Gregorovitch's throat. Not when his eyes burned with unshed tears and Albus screamed, shooting a curse that they both saw hit Ariana -

No. It all started with the _blue-eyed boy from Godric's Hollow,_ a summer he could never forget, purple skies and torn letters and the gasped graze of dry lips - 

_________

Lily is exhausted by the time they apparate to Hogwarts from Belby Manor. 

It was an awkward situation, made all the more awkward by Severus's disinclination to call her anything but _'Mrs. Potter'_ , that too, very stiffly, like any emotion that might leak into the word was a crime, James's horror at having been healed by Severus, and Remus's strange glances at Sirius since the time they had arrived, only to see Sirius and Severus hugging. 

Lily isn't sure it's something she could have even imagined before. Severus looks disgusted. 

"My Life Debt to you is paid back in full," Severus says, scowling at James, right before they go out. James passes him a nod and a smile, except its so gritted that it looks _physically painful_. Sirius doesn't seem to know whether he should look apologetic or not, and if yes, then for who. Remus is pale and blank-faced, like he's still in shock. Lily can relate.

"I'm going to Little Hangleton before Hogwarts," Sirius announces, as they reach the outer gates and Lily suddenly remembers what she and Remus had been doing before they apparated to the Manor. "I need to get the ring - " 

"No need," Remus interrupts, putting his hand in his pocket. "Who knew there were runes to keep Dark Magic enclosed?" 

Sirius looks at the ring that Remus has casually placed in his hand, the air around it blurry and thick because of Lily's protection wards. 

"I did," Lily points out, helpfully, as Sirius turns a beaming smile on her. James is still looking at his hand, like he can't believe they had just been black and withering at the tips five minutes ago, but he shoots her an impressed look.

"Harry, then," Sirius says, with a decisive nod, pocketing the ring himself, and looking at Lily and James. "I'll tell you what I have planned. He'll be safer there, I'll make sure of it."

Lily nods, trusting Sirius coming as easily to her as breathing.

_"It's time to get this war started,"_ Sirius says, turning on his heel and disapparating.

_________

"You are like _fire,_ Gellert," Albus once said, watching him through long eyelashes, mouth pulled downwards. 

It doesn't sound like a compliment, Gellert thinks.

"Why do you put up with me, then?" Gellert asks, with the shadow of a smirk. Albus follows his fingers tapping anxiously.

"Because you're like fire - and I - I have been cold for _so_ long," he replies, barely a whisper, and Gellert takes his hand in his own.

A bird chirps loudly in the distance.

"We're going to change the world," Albus says, reverently and Gellert knows he's right. 

"We can do anything _together,"_ Gellert agrees.

_________

Its exactly two at night when Narcissa takes a deep breath, and locks eyes with Lucius, for what she knows will be the last time in very, _very_ long.

She's placed a sleeping charm on Draco, she's packed and shrunk her trunk, she's floo'ed Andromeda and she's written down a fake note, in a place where they know the Dark Lord will find it _before_ Lucius does - they've practiced Lucius's reaction, the way the supposed _betrayal of his seemingly devoted wife_ would hit him, how he'll tell the Dark Lord that he wants revenge. 

_Sometimes, bravery looks like running away._

Narcissa looks at Draco sleeping, and she knows that she's made the right decision, that Lucius has made the right decision. She tilts her head up, placing a fierce kiss on Lucius's lips, her eyes wide and proud, she's so, _so_ proud of him -

"If - if we don't meet - for _too_ long," Lucius begins, swallowing, and glancing at Draco. "If something goes wrong, and I can’t meet him, teach Draco - teach him what it means to be a _Malfoy."_

Narcissa smiles at him, her eyes slightly watery.

"And tell him to be proud of who he is and - and that _I love him,"_ Lucius says, and Narcissa kisses him again, nodding furiously.

_________

"I remember you," Lily says, with a polite smile. "You were Head Girl when we were in first year, yes?"

Andromeda Black Tonks nods once, face impassive, "Lily, isn't it? I remember you, too. You were the one who locked Lucius in a broom closet."

"I - what - " Lily yelps, flushing as James and Sirius let out bursts of surprised laughter. "I didn't - I didn't know anyone _knew!_ It was a spur of the moment thing, and I was sure Malfoy wouldn't tell anyone, he would have been too embara - "

"I'm afraid its better to _check_ if a broom closet is _unoccupied_ before locking people in them," Andromeda says, smiling serenely and Lily concludes that she trusts this woman.

"Were you getting all _frisky_ with darling _Teddy_ when blondie interrupted?" Sirius asks, positively roaring with laughter. Andromeda ignores him, rocking Harry with a small, innocent smile. Her husband, Ted Tonks, who if Lily remembers, was a Hufflepuff prefect in Andromeda's year - has come and gone, too - seeming quite satisfied with the protection that Nymphadora would be provided, which of course - would be much better than what can be given to her at home with working parents.

"Me-Da!" Harry yells, laughing as Andromeda tickles him.

_________

In one world, when Lily Evans Potter tells her son that she loves him, its her last stand. Her last token to her son - her last words directed to him - filled with _terror_ and pain and so much _love -_

It's a different world.

When Lily Evans Potter tells Harry James Potter that she loves him, its not her last time. There's worry laced in her voice, but there's no fear -

_They're going to get through this. Together._

"Harry, you are so, _so_ loved," she says, pressing kisses to his cheeks and his forehead and on his hair. "Mama loves you. Dada loves you. Harry, be safe. 'Meda will take care of you, okay? Be good. Be _strong."_

__________

Felix Durmont and Nashvin Urov have been waiting around for quite some time, staring at the _empty soda can_ lying in front of them, sitting on two white garden chairs, feet propped up on Mid-Century style ottomans. Its a classy place, expense etched onto every lamp, every inch of the carpets - a marble plaque in front of the safehouse, right above a smaller, _'Armand Malfoy,'_ declares -

_La Ville du Verre Rose, 949 B.C_

Sirius has described the two women - _"And they're both married, Urov, so hands off, or you'll probably lose them"_ \- in excessive detail, and the three children that they would be bringing along with them, five people, two well-trained witches, who're apparently Sirius's cousins - and three definitely underage kids, who Felix and Nashvin would be providing security to, beyond the already thick layers of wards, muggle and wizard repelling spells and protection shields put up all around the house - or _mansion, really_ \- the safeguard if the bubble of magic around the house was to be broken, for any reason. 

The soda can lights up suddenly, and there's a crack, and the group pops into existence -

Felix points his wand at the thin, blonde woman - _Narcissa_ , Sirius's voice supplies in his head, who's holding the sleeping, blonde baby - _Draco_ \- and Nashvin scrambles up to point his wand at the dark-haired one, _Andromeda_ \- who's carrying the dark-haired baby - _Sirius's godson, Harry_ \- and holding the hand of another young girl, who's glaring at them so viciously that Felix leans back a little from her. 

"Go ahead, Dora," Andromeda instructs, nodding at them in acknowledgment that they have to check. 

The little girl sounds sulky as she says, "What color do you want to see?" 

"Orange?" Felix suggests, shrugging. "Do orange, and then, blue maybe, violet - " 

The Metamorphmagus girl - _Nymphadora_ \- she's turning her hair orange and blue and violet already - as Harry giggles and points at her. 

They lower their wands.

"Felix Durmont," he introduces, extending a hand. "And, this is Nashvin Urov."

"A pleasure," Narcissa says, and brings out a shrunken trunk from her robe pocket, unshrinks it and hands it to Nashvin. "We'll take the second floor," she adds, walking inside the house, leaving him with her trunk. 

Andromeda and Felix look amused.

Nymphadora laughs at Nashvin - who blinks at Narcissa as she disappears - the girl's hair turning a bright yellow.

_________

" _Fawkes_ , he calls it now," Gellert says, and he's sure he feels the dog tensing under his hand. "How easy to play a phoenix being named Fawkes after _Guy Fawkes_. A bird that periodically burns and is reborn from the ashes, a simple metaphor, a simple comparison. But - Albus isn't that simple a man."

The dog waits. Gellert smiles.

"He's always liked his little mysteries," Gellert says, his eyes on the sea. "You see, the bird wasn't named _Fawkes_ , at first. It was called _Faulques,_ meaning 'falcon' - a traditional German surname, _my late mother's_ surname. _Faulques_ was what I named the bird. And I should know. It was _my_ phoenix, after all."

_________

Harry and Draco take to each other so fast, it's almost scary. 

By the time Narcissa charms a room for them, transfiguring cribs and putting thick mattresses all over the floor so they can fall over without hurting themselves, Draco has already woken up and is reaching for Harry like he reaches for his glinting toy snitch.

"Haw-wy!"

"Dw- _aco!"_

And before Narcissa knows what's happening, they're both rolling around, Draco pulling Harry’s hair and Harry returning the favor easily - its _baffling_ \- the fact that Draco usually takes atleast five scheduled playdates, and an hour of solemn staring on each day, to let the children even touch him. He took to the Parkinson's daughter fast, and Zaira Zabini's son, too, but when Greg or Vince are brought to the Mansion, Draco just sort of - stares at them. And _stares._

There's hardly any staring happening here. They're just both grappling and crawling and pulling hair. Harry’s hair are sticking up in dark tufts and so are Draco's and they're both laughing so much. 

Narcissa can't help but smile, as she watches the two pat each other on the head to make their hair lie flat, giggling as they do so.

_________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it'll be clear in like two more chapters how sirius knew about the horcruxes and why he went to grindelwald in the first place
> 
> i hope you liked it ;)

**Author's Note:**

> If you've reached here, you might as well read -  
>  __[every night before i sleep (i like to think you think of me)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28766853)  
> [the dreams in which i'm dying (are the best i've ever had)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28809843)


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